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AUTHOR: 


ROBINSON,  CYRIL 
EDWARD 


TITLE: 


DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


PLACE: 


NEW  YORK 


DA  TE : 


1916 


COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARIES 
PRESERVATION  DEPARTMENT 


Master  Negative  # 


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BIBLIOGRAPHIC  MICROFORM  TARGET 


Original  Material  as  Filmed  -  Existing  Bibliographic  Record 


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Robinson,  Oyril  Edward.,  1894-  m'  i, 

The  days  of  Alkibiades,  by  C«  E.  Eobinson  ...  with  a  } 
foreword  by  Professor  C.  W.  Oman  ...  London^-Ex-Ar^— \ 
noldr^di^  Hew  Idtlc,  LongpanSt  1916.  ^ 

xxiv,  301  p.    front.,  1  illiis.,  plates.    20*^". 

Anothep  copy 


irnard  Oelleee  Library — Cd^edi — 1917 1 


1.  Alcibiades.    2.  Greece— Soc.  life  &  cust.        i.  Title. 


Library  of  Congress 


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17—26255 


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LIBRARY 


• 


4 


THE    DAYS   OF   ALKIBIADES 


I 


THE  PARTHENON 

The  view  is  taken  from  the  Propylaea.  Many  of  the 
statues  which  line  the  way  up  to  the  great  eastern  door 
may  be  identified  in  Pausanias'  guide-book.  Near  the  end 
of  the  way  up,  the  smoke  of  the  great  altar  rises.     On  the 

right  .s  the  Chalkotheka  adjoining  the  precinct  of  Brauronian 
Artemis. 


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.     M  F  W    YORK 
LONGMANS,    G^^ 


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THE 

DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


BY 


C.    E.    ROBINSON,    B.  A. 

ASSISTANT    MASTEK    AT    WINCHISTER    COLLEGE 


(8*'  .:! 


'w^'"- 


With  a  Foreword  by 
PROFESSOR    C.    W.    OMAN 


ILLUSTRATED 


S^iS^c 


I 


NEW    YORK 

LONGMANS,    GREEN    AND    CO. 

LONDON:    EDWARD  ARNOLD 

1916 

jlll  rights  reserved 


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FOREWORD 


When  those  of  us  who  are  interested  in  History, 
Ancient  or  Modern,  come  upon  that  common  and 
depressing  personage  the  boy  or  man  who  labels 
history  as  *  dull,'  and  conceives  of.  it  as  a  tedious 
string  of  names  and  dates,  we  are  forced  to  ask 
ourselves  how  this  pernicious  attitude  of  mind 
comes  into  existence. 

I  am  bound  to  say  that  I  believe  that  it  is 
mainly  the  result  of  a  course  of  '  smaller  manuals.' 
The  shorter  the  history-book,  the  less  human  does 
it  become.  Those  who  have  already  some  know- 
ledge of  a  definite  period  may  juggle  with  the 
names  of  Pericles  or  Caesar,  Cromwell  or  Napoleon, 
because  they  have  a  notion  of  what  those  counters 
mean.  To  the  victim  of  the  'smaller  manual' 
they  are  only  names,  or  at  most  have  inadequate 
labels  attached  to  them.  It  is  hard  to  take  much 
interest  in  Pericles  if  we  have  no  longer  definition 
of  him  than  that  he  was  '  an  Athenian  statesman 
of  democratic  tendencies,  who  was  a  great  patron 
of  arts  and  letters.'  And  even  Napoleon  may  be 
tedious  if  we  start  with  no  more  idea  of  him  than 
that  he  was  'an  ambitious  Corsican  general  who 
succeeded  in  making  himself  despotic  ruler  of 
France.'     It  is  absolutely  necessary  to  rouse  in  the 


VI 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


FOREWORD 


vu 


beginner  an  interest  in  the  human  and  personal 
aspect  of  the  historical  figures  with  whom  he  comes 
in  contact.  I  would  pardon  a  reader  who  had 
never  heard  of  the  Code  Napoleon^  if  he  could  tell 
me  that  the  great  emperor  carried  his  snuflf  loose  in 
his  pockets,  ate  his  meals  too  fast,  and  was  accus- 
tomed to  pinch  the  ears  of  his  generals.  There  is 
some  hope  for  that  reader — none  for  the  unhappy- 
being  to  whom  Napoleon  means  a  string  of  battle- 
names  and  constitutional  enactments.  Whether 
illustrative  anecdotes  are  absolutely  accurate  is  a 
thing  of  almost  secondary  importance,  for  the 
*  legend'  of  a  great  man  is  sometimes  quite  as 
worthy  of  memory  as  his  biography  in  the  Smaller 
Historical  Dictionary. 

In  dealing  with  Ancient  History,  the  difficulty  is 
decidedly  greater  than  when  Modern  History  is  in 
question.  It  is,  after  all,  not  impossible  to  turn  a 
reader  who  has  developed  an  interest  in  the  times  of 
Elizabeth  or  Anne,  or  the  Napoleonic  wars,  on  to  half 
a  dozen  interesting  books  which  all  but  the  most  per- 
verse can  read  for  pleasure.  With  Greek  and  Roman 
history  the  task  is  far  harder.  For  the  life  and 
manners  of  the  classic  world  are  far  less  compre- 
hensible to  the  general  reader  than  those  of  the  six- 
teenth or  the  eighteenth  century^  We  can  not  give 
him  to  read  anything  corresponding  to  Westward  Ho  ! 
Esmond^  or  even  Brigadier  Gerard,  And  it  is  a  very 
exceptional  inquirer  who  will  read  Plutarch  or 
Herodotus,  in  the  crib,  for  pure  pleasure.     Even  if 


he  does,  the  customs  and  the  surroundings  of  the 
heroes  of  whom  he  reads  are  often  uninteUigible, 
their  motives  and  actions  mysterious,  for  want  of 
what  we  may  call  '  atmosphere  '  in  the  story. 

There  are  really  only  two  periods  in  the  history 
of  the  Elder  World  in  which  we  can  make  for  our- 
selves a  detailed  and  lively  picture  of  the  daily  life 
of  one  of  the  great  men  whose  names  are  familiar 
to  us  in  formal  history.  The  one  is  the  time  of 
the  Fall  of  the  Roman  Republic,  made  real  to  us 
not  so  much  by  the  orations  of  Cicero  as  by  the 
private  letters  in  which  he  tells  us  of  his  pohtical 
and  literary  tiffs,  his  financial  misadventures,  and 
the  discomforts  of  his  travels.  The  other  is  the 
short  age  of  the  Athenian  Empire  :  and  here  we 
are  helped,  not  by  Thucydides,  who  (with  all  his 
merits)  is  almost  the  least  human  of  historians,  but 
by  the  plays  of  Aristophanes,  the  dialogues  of  Plato, 
and  a  bundle  of  the  very  best  of  Plutarch's  Lives^ 
whose  anecdotes  are  none  the  less  valuable  for  side- 
lights on  the  times,  because  they  may  sometimes  be 
inaccurate  or  even  obviously  untrue. 

Between  340  b.c.  and  300  b.c.  we  really  have  the 
material  for  Torming  a  picture  of  the  Ufe  of  Athens, 
without  being  tied  down  to  the  philosophic  narra- 
tive of  Thucydides,  on  the  one  hand,  or  falling 
victims  to  the  horrors  of  archaeological  research  on 
the  other  (as  do  those  who  write  romances  about 
Rameses  or  Sennacherib).  We  can  not  only  visualize 
the  leading  historical  figures,  but  reconstruct  their 


VUl 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


manners  and  their  motives,  as  we  can  do  with  men 
of  the  sixteenth  or  the  eighteenth  century.  Mr. 
Robinson  has  chosen  to  hang  his  story  around  the 
career  of  Alcibiades,  the  most  freakish  and  fascinat- 
ing of  all  the  personalities  of  that  wonderful  age. 
Fortunately  there  is  a  great  deal  to  be  gathered 
together,  from  one  source  and  another,  about  that 
extraordinary  youth — we  never  can  think  of  him 
as  a  middle-aged  man  even  in  his  last  years  of 
adventure.  From  first  to  last  he  was  *  in  the  thick 
of  it ' ;  it  seems  almost  more  than  the  story-teller 
can  reasonably  expect,  when  we  find  that  one 
versatile  personage  was  at  once  the  ward  of 
Pericles,  the  favourite  pupil  of  Socrates,  the  scandal 
of  the  streets  and  supper-parties  of  Athens,  the 
victor  at  Olympia,  the  guiding  statesman  at  the 
crisis  of  his  country's  fate  in  415  B.C.,  the  traitor 
who  wrecked  her  policy  two  years  later,  the  saviour 
who  won  her  a  short  breathing  space  of  restoration 
in  411  B.C.  He  was  the  greatest  of  adventurers, 
the  most  perverse  yet  not  the  most  unpardonable 
I  of  those  who  have  sought  to  *  stand  in  the  lime- 
light,' rather  than  to  work  in  the  shade  of  duty. 
Almost  everything  that  he  did  or  said  has  its  in- 
terest, and  I  can  conceive  of  no  more  fascinating 
central  figure  for  a  study  of  Athenian  life  in  the 

Great  Age. 

C.  OMAN. 


AUTHOR'S  PREFACE 

These  sketches  conform  to  no  strict  canon  of 
scientific  history.  They  are  rather  intended  to 
depict  the  manners,  customs  and  general  atmo- 
sphere of  the  times.  Nevertheless  the  plots  are  in 
most  cases  based  upon  actual  events  and  anecdotes, 
related  in  Plutarch  and  elsewhere.  Nor  are  the 
characters  fictitious ;  nearly  all  of  their  names  at 
least  are  on  record.  They  are  designed,  however, 
to  stand  less  for  individuals  than  for  general  types. 
The  farmer  is  such  as  Attic  farmers  would  seem  on 
the  whole  to  have  been.  The  Spartan  is  seen  as  he 
appeared  to  Athenian  eyes  :  the  sayings  put  into 
his  mouth  are  attributed  to  various  historical 
personages. 

The  materials  from  which  the  chapters  are  com- 
piled have  been  drawn,  whenever  possible,  from 
contemporary  monuments  and  authors.  Even  the 
phrases  used  in  the  dialogues  are  based  chiefly  on 
the  current  language,  as  rendered  by  Aristophanes. 
In  this  way  I  have  hoped  to  reproduce,  truly  and 
with  fair  completeness,  the  habits  of  an  Athenian 
gentleman,  how  he  dressed,  ate,  and  spent  his  day, 
how  he  talked  and  what  he  thought,  the  scenes  he 
saw  and  the  places  he  visited. 

I  have  not  thought  fit  to  fill  the  margin  with 
references.  There  are  manuals.  To  those  readers 
who  have  no  Greek,  I  have  made  two  concessions. 


IX 


X  THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

From  Mr.  Zimmern  I  have  borrowed  the  practice 
of  referring  to  pubUc  offices,  buildings  and  institu- 
tions in  terms  which  may  to  some  degree  suggest 
their  modern  equivalents  ;  from  Mr.  Rogers  that 
of  transcribing  the  language  of  non-Attic  peoples 
into  dialects  suitably  analogous.  In  translating  the 
literary  matter  also,  I  have  tried  to  suit  the  style 
of  the  translation  to  that  of  the  original.  The 
literature  of  Athens  developed  more  swiftly  than  our 
own  :  but  it  passed  through  the  same  or  approxi- 
mately the  same  phases.  Thus  Homer  becomes 
ballad-verse  ;  Alkibiades'  speech  has  some  flavour  of 
Elizabethan  rhetoric,  the  dialogues  that  of  Eliza- 
bethan comedies ;  the  maturer  style  of  Lysias  finds 
its  counterpart  in  the  more  rounded  periods  of 
Addison  and  Steele. 

One  last  word  upon  the  drawings.  Vases  have 
given  evidence  for  costume,  physiognomy  and  pose. 
The  landscape  of  Attica  cannot  have  differed 
materially  from  that  of  to-day  ;  though  I  doubt  if 
I  have  clothed  the  hills  with  a  sufficiency  of  trees. 
Some  of  the  scenes  must  be  largely  conjectural. 
Those  which  represent  the  Theatre  and  the  Galley 
deal  with  subjects  which  are  still  hotly  debated. 
Wherever  the  ground  is  insecure,  I  have  thought  k 
better,  whether  in  letterpress  or  illustration,  to  be 
bold  and  banish  doubt.  The  tangles  of  contro- 
versy are  for  students  to  unravel.  And  to  admit 
controversy  in  such  a  work  as  this  would  be  but  to 
dim  the  outlines  of  the  picture,  and  to  obscure  the 
main  interest  which  it  is  intended  to  awaken  in  the 
realities  of  living  Greece. 


CONTENTS 


I.  ALKIBIADES     BOYHOOD 

II,  AN    ATTIC    FARM 

Iir.  EPHEBES 

IV.  DELPHI 

V.  A    BATTLE    AT    SEA 

VI.  A    LAND    BATTLE     . 

VII.  THE    MYSTERIES    OF    ELEUSIS 

Vin.  A    DINNER-PARTY    . 

IX.  THE    MARKET-PLACE 

X.  A    FUNERAL    . 

XI.  OLYMPIA 

XII.  THE    GREAT    DIONYSIA 

XIII.  AN    EKKLESIA 

XIV.  A    WEDDING    FESTIVAL 
XV.  A    HOME    IN    ATHENS 

XVI.  ATHENS 

XVII.  PANATHENAEA 

XVIII.  PEIRAIEUS       . 

XIX.  SPARTA 

XX.  A    TRIAL    BY    JURY 

XXI.  BARBARY 


PACK 

I 
H 

29 

38 

so 

59 

72 
87 

102 

117 
124 

141 

163 

176 

186 

204 

224 

244 

262 

*94 


XI 


f! 


LIST   OF   PLATES 

THE  PARTHENON Frontispiece 

Facing  page 

A  GYMNASIUM z% 

DELPHI 37 

TRIREME 49 

THE  INTERIOR  OF  A  TRIREME        ....  58 

HOPLITES  ADVANCING  TO  BATTLE        ...  71 

THE  SACRED  WAY        .......  86 

A  DRINKING-BOUT loi 

THE  MARKET-PLACE 116 

THE  DIONYSIAC  THEATRE 140 

THE  THEATRE 162 

AN  EKKLESIA 175 

INTERIOR  OF  A  GREEK  HOUSE        ....  185 

ATHENS  FROM  LYKABETTOS  (with  Key)         .        .  203 

THE  PROPYLAEA 223 

SPARTA:   A  PYRRHIC  DANCE  .         .         .  261 


xiU 


I 


HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION 

Alkibiades'  manhood  covered,  with  a  strange  and 
exact  coincidence,  those  very  years  in  Athenian 
history  which  were  the  most  brilliant,  the  most 
troubled,  and  to  ourselves  the  most  interesting  of 
all,  I  mean  the  twenty-seven  years  of  the  Pelopon- 
nesian  War.  He  was  a  young  man  when  the  war 
broke  out,  but  old  enough  to  be  serving  in  the 
ranks.  He  first  took  a  lead  in  poUtics,  when  ten 
years'  fighting  had  brought  a  truce  and  a  breathing- 
space  in  the  struggle.  He  died  when  the  war  was 
over,  and  Athens  beaten. 

In  a  sense,  it  was  his  uncle  Perikles'  war ;  but  I 
doubt  if  Perikles  had  wanted  it.  He  was  too  great 
a  statesman  to  be  ignorant  of  its  dangers.  But 
soon  or  late  war  was  bound  to  come  for  Sparta  and 
Athens,  as  it  was  for  Germany  and  Great  Britain. 
Froni  the  day  when,  fifteen  years  before,  Perikles 
definitely  broke  the  old  conservative  chque  of 
Thukydides  and  his  timid  pacifists,  he  must  have  seen 
it  coming.  He  at  any  rate  was  able  to  measure  with 
clear  vision,  but  without  flinching,  the  risks  which 
his  own  pohcy  involved.  Nor  were  they  to  be 
regarded  lightly.  The  Greater  Athens,  which  was 
his  ideal  and  exclusively  his  handiwork,  was  much 
more  than  a  metropohs  of  art  and  wit,  the  hub  of 
Hellenic  culture.  Perikles  himself  had  called  her 
the  schoolmistress  of   Greece;   but  she  was,  in  a 


XV 


# 


ivi  THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

more   material  sense,   its   mistress   too.     Little   by 
little  she  had  turned  to  her  own  use  that  defensive 
union  which  the  towns  and  islands  of  the  Aegean 
basin  had  formed  against  the  dangerous  power  of 
Persia.     From  chief  partner  in  the  alliance  she  had 
come  to  be  its  ruler  ;    thus  the  Free  League  had 
turned  into  a  Subject  Empire;   and  such  Perikles 
meant  it  to  remain.     But  under  a  constraint  of  J:his 
character  the  '  aUies '  were  already  chafing.     Wliat 
if  they  should  revolt  ?     That  risk  Perikles  had  seen 
and    faced.     There    was    another.     As    head    of   a 
maritime   empire,   Athens'   strength  lay  naturally 
upon  the  sea  :   but  though  not  an  island  state,  her 
very  existence  also  depended  upon  sea-power  no 
less  than  if  she  had  been  so.     With  the  growth  of  a 
large  industrial  population,  the  soil  of  Attica  ceased 
to  be  able  to  support  its  citizens.     Naval  supremacy 
therefore  ensured  to  her  not  trade  alone,  but  what 
was  much  more  vital,  corn.     So  it  came  to  be  an 
instinct   with   her   to   push   her   sea-power   to   its 
extreme  limits  ;    and  this,  as  it  was  bound  to  do, 
brought  her  into  collision  with  the  interests  of  other 
states.     Sparta,  the  head  of  a  rival  league  in  the 
Peloponnese,  was  a  land  power  and  a  purely  agri- 
cultural people  :    she  could  afford  to  ignore  the 
Athenian  menace.    Not  so  her  chief  ally  Corinth. 
This  city,    conveniently  placed  for   trade  in   east 
and  west,  had  watched  with  alarm  her  near  neigh- 
bour's growing  hold  on  the  Aegean.     But  so  long 
as  her  western  outlet  was  left  untouched,  she  had 
remained  quiescent.     When,  however,  Athens  took 
the  island  of  Corfu  into  alliance,  Corinth's  link  with 
Sicily  and  South  Italy  was  threatened.     So  in  sheer 
self-defence   she   made  vigorous  representations  at 


HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION       xvii 

Sparta  and  eventually  pushed  her  somewhat  un- 
willing partner  into  war.  Once  the  plunge  was 
taken,  however,  Sparta  entered  the  struggle  in  grim 
earnest.  All  the  old  bitter  jealousy  of  Athens  rose 
in  her ;  and  she  at  once  made  a  bold  bid  for  victory 
(and,  as  it  turned  out,  for  Empire  too)  by  declaring 
her  cause  to  be  the  cause  of  all  who  suffered  "under 
Athens'  tyranny.  At  the  outset  little  came  of  this 
appeal,  for  neither  Sparta  nor  Corinth  had  any  fleet 
fit  to  send  across  the  sea. 

llie  first  phase  of  the  war  lasted  ten  years.  It 
gave  Athens,  as  was  natural,  a  still  closer  grip  upon 
the  trade-routes.  The  Corinthian  Gulf  was  closely 
blockaded  by  Phormio's  squadron  at  Naupaktos, 
which  fought  more  than  one  successful  action 
against  heavy  odds. 

It  also  brought  her  one  notable  success  on  land. 
The  Spartans,  woefully  misjudging  the  scope  of 
naval  power,  landed  a  body  of  picked  troops  on  a 
little  island  near  Pylos.  These  were  there  cut  off 
and  forced  into  surrender.  This  (though  in  point 
of  fact  her  men  yielded  only  to  overwhelming 
numbers  1)  was  a  terrible  blow  to  Sparta's  unique 
military  prestige  ;  and  the  loss  of  these  prisoners 
for  a  time  inclined  her  strongly  towards  peace. 

Meanwhile  Athens,  for  her  part,  had  suffered  too. 
Peloponnesian  armies  had  made  yearly  invasions  into 
Attic  territory,  destroying  crops,  felling  trees  and 
burning  homesteads.  All  the  country  population 
was  called  inside  the  capital :  and  though  her  long 
walls    from    port    to   city   secured   Athens    from 

,  1  Demosthenes  and  Kleon  landed  some  thirteen  thousand  troops. 
The  Spartans  numbered  only  four  hundred  and  twenty — together  with 
iiomc  three  thousand  helots,  if  each  Spartan  was  accompanied  by  his 
Visual  complement  of  seven. 


** 


If 


l| 


! 


n 


iviii       THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

starvation,  she  lived  in  a  state  of  virtual  siege. 
Neither  Perikles  nor  his  successors  ever  dared  to 
meet  the  enemy  in  battle  ;  they  even  failed  to  send 
relief  to  their  httle  ally  Plataea,  which  lay  just  across 
the  Boeotian  border  to  the  north-west.  On  land 
Athens  was  helpless.  The  invincible  prowess  of 
the  Spartan  army  had  become  a  legend.  It  was 
also  in  spite  of  Pylos  an  uncomfortable  fact. 

In  the  city  one  result  of  this  wretched  over- 
crowding was   a    serious   outbreak   of   plague  :    it 
killed  off  many  of  her  most  brilliant  men,  and  Perikles 
among  them.     The  only  reprisals  she  could  make 
took  the  form  of  intermittent  raids  on  the  coasts 
of  the  Morea,  and  the  seizure  of  the  port  of  Megara 
which  lay  between  Athens  and  the  Isthmus.     This 
last  stroke,  however,  was  not  enough  to  bar  the  route 
to  Northern  Greece  against  the  passage  of  Spartan 
troops ;  and  the  ephors  had  the  wit  at  last  to  send 
Brasidas  with  an  expeditionary  force  to  the  coasts 
of  Macedonia,  where  many  of  Athens'  *  allies '  were 
only  too  ready  to  throw  off  her  yoke  and  open  their 
gates    to    the    Spartan    Uberator.     The   Athenians 
made  one  bold  attempt,  which,  had  it  succeeded, 
might   have   shut   off   Brasidas   from   all  hope   of 
reinforcements.     They  dehvered   a   sudden   attack 
in    full    force    upon    Boeotia,  which   lay   between 
Macedonia  and  the  Isthmus,  and  which  had  fought 
throughout  the  war  at  the  side  of  Sparta.     But  this 
excursion  ended  disastrously  at  Delion,  and  Brasidas 
continued  to  spread  disaffection  along  the  northern 
littoral.     This    touched   on   the   weakest    spot   in 
Athens'    armour :     and    though    Brasidas    fell      1 
Amphipolis,  she  was  so  thoroughly  alarmed        j 
she  agreed  to  terms.     But  the  truce  (for  it  c      v 


HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION        xii 

)e  nothing  more  than  that)  was  destined  to  last 

)ut  a  bare  six  years. 
The  time  was  now  ripe  for  Alkibiades  to  play  his 

)art.     No  great  figure  any  longer  dominated  the 
[stage  or  united  the  state,   as  Perikles  had  done. 

\nd  since  his  death,  Athenian  pohcy  had  begun 
ho  lose  cohesion.  Strictly  speaking,  there  was  no 
machinery  in  Athens  which  could  be  called  Party 
I  Government.^  But  two  main  factions  had,  as  the 
war  went  on,  become  more  and  more  defined. 
Ten  years  of  fighting  was  time  enough  for  a  man 
to  learn  where  his  interests  lay.  If  he  were  a  land- 
owner, he  saw  that  the  renewal  of  the  Spartan 
raids  meant  ruin.  So  feeHng  against  the  war 
hardened  among  the  aristocracy,  the  farmers,  and 
among  that  least  articulate  class  of  the  community, 
the  peasantry  who  tilled  the  soil.  Their  grumbhng 
found  vent,  in  the  absence  of  a  press,  through  the 
Comedies  of  Aristophanes.  Their  chief  spokesman 
in  the  Assembly  was  Nikias,  a  man  whose  cautious 
moderation  gave  him  more  weight  than  his  ability 
merited.  But  though  he  gained  a  brief  success  in 
estabhshing  the  so-called  peace,  he  was  never  secure 
of  a  permanent  majority.  Over  against  him  and 
his  party  was  ranged  another  and  a  stronger  in- 
terest. The  industrial  and  commercial  element — the 
workers  of  the  pottery,  the  dock,  the  forge,  the  loom 
— dominated  the  Assembly.  It  had  not  of  necessity 
a  preponderance  of  voting  strength — ^though  this 
was  formidable.  But,  what  meant  far  more,  it 
held  the  initiative  in  politics.  The  working  popula- 
tion of  Athens  and  Peiraieus  contained  (as  did  the 

'  Thus  leaders  of  two  opposing  factions,  such  as  Alkibiades  and 
Nikias,  often  held  office  as  *  generals '  simultaneously. 


XX  THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

town  of  Paris  in  eighteenth-century  France)  the 
brain  and  motive  power  of  the  community.     With 
intellects  practised  in  the  business  of  the  Courts 
and  the  Assembly,  trained  in  the  strict  logic  of 
their  classic  playwrights,   and  whetted  to  a  keen 
edge  by  the  '  Higher  Criticism '  of  the  new  sophist- 
teachers,   they  were  more  than  a   match  for  the 
slow  wits  of  country- cousins.     The  direction  of 
such  a  mob  called  for  adroit  handling.     To  minds 
like  these  Nikias  appeared  a  dull  fool.     They  looked 
rather  to  whatever  leader  would  flatter  their  sense 
of  intellectual  superiority  and  push  to  its  furthest 
limit   the  principles   of  Democracy  and  Licence. 
Kleon,  their  most  popular  spokesman,   succeeded 
not  because  he  was  a  man  of  the  people,  but  because 
he  possessed  the  same  violent  enthusiasm  and  the 
same   ruthless   logic  which   marked   many  of   the 
French  revolutionary  leaders.     When  Kleon  died, 
Alkibiades,  though  an  aristocrat  both  by  birth  and 
training,  was  able  to  place  himself  at  their  head,  by 
virtue  of  similar  quahties.     Had  he  possessed  the' 
sanity  and  restraint  of  Perikles,  he  might  have  held 
the   balance   between   the  opposing   factions,   but 
he  was  singularly  deficient  in  such  restraint,  and  he 
threw  all  his  weight  upon  the  democratic  side.     -*^ 

The  party  with  which  he  now  identified  himself 
had  never  been  averse  to  the  war.  On  the  contrary, 
they  had  everything  to  gain  by  it,  nothing  to  lose! 
While  the  farms  suffered,  commerce  flourished. 
The  whole  carrying  trade  of  the  middle  seas,  or  at 
least  the  bulk  of  it,  was  little  by  httle  falling  into 
Athenian  hands  :  and  at  the  conclusion  of  the  peace 
the  traders  cannot  but  have  felt  themselves  balked 
of  the  full  fruits  of  a  victory  on  which  they  had 


*  ct 


HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION        xxi 

confidently  counted.  In  the  future,  therefore,  they 
looked  for  a  bolder  line  of  action  :  and  they  were 
resolved  first  to  tighten  the  grip  upon  their  refrac- 
tory aUies,  and  then,  when  opportunity  offered, 
to  try  conclusions  with  Corinth  and  Sparta  once 
more.  From  henceforward  in  all  the  tactics  of 
aggression  which  Athens  presently  adopted,  it  was 
this  party  that  led  the  measure  :  as  it  was  Alldbiades 
that  called  the  tune. 

He  it  was  in  all  likelihood  who  prompted  the  un- 
scrupulous attack  on  the  little  island-state  of  Melos. 
This  small  defenceless  people  were  summarily  told 
to  join  the  Athenian  League.  They  refused  :  that 
was  their  only  crime  :  and  their  punishment  must 
have  sent  a  thrill  of  horror  through  Greece.  All 
mahis  of  miHtary  age  were  slaughtered,  their  wives 
and  children  sold  into  slavery.  Other  islanders  whose 
ideas  turned  towards  revolt  were  left  to  draw  the 
moral  for  themselves. 

Nor  were  Sparta  and  Corinth  left  long  in  doubt 
of  Alkibiades'  intentions.  Since  the  peace  had  been 
concluded  there  had  been  some  re-shuffling  of  the 
forces  that  held  the  balance  against  Athens.  The 
town  of  Argos,  hitherto  a  neutral,  but  an  old  enemy 
of  her  neighbour  Sparta,  had  now  formed  a  league 
of  some  of  the  minor  states  of  the  Peloponnese. 
Sparta  was  undisguisedly  perturbed,  the  more  so 
when  Corinth  herself  joined  in  the  League.  She  at 
once  endeavoured  to  bring  about  an  understanding 
with  Argos ;  in  this  she  had  all  but  succeeded 
when  Alkibiades,  by  an  adroit  but  unscrupulous 
diplomacy,  turned  the  tables  and  brought  Argos 
into  line  with  Athens.  His  novel  idea  of  forming 
a  land  combination  against  Sparta  had  one  capital 


k 


I 


1 1 

1^ 


mm-m 


LH*ewt 


.^ 


xxii         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

advantage.  It  enabled  him  to  operate  in  such  a 
way  as  to  divide  the  forces  of  Sparta  from  those  of 
Cormth.  It  only  failed  through  the  unrivalled 
hghtmg  powers  of  the  Spartan  foot,  who,  though 
taken  at  a  tactical  disadvantage  at  Mantinea,  trans- 
formed a  doubtful  day  into  a  briUiant  victory.  This ' 
defeat  put  an  end  to  AlHbiades'  schemes  in  this 
direction,  and  he  turned  his  thoughts  towards  the 
sea. 

Of  all  the  fields  open  to  the  enterprise  of  Greek 
traders,  Sicily  was  perhaps  the  richest.  Syracuse, 
Its  most  prominent  and  prosperous  city,  had  origi- 
nally been  founded  by  colonists  from  Corinth,  and- 
as  we  hinted  above,  it  was  in  this  direction  that 
Corinth  s  chief  trade  lay.  The  plan  which  was  now 
hatched  in  Alkibiades'  swift  inteUect,  was  nothing 
naore  or  less  than  to  utiHse  Athens'  sea-power  for 
the  conquest  of  this  town.  This  accomphshed, 
bicily  would  be  at  their  mercy,  and  Corinth  too. 
Ihe  Peloponnese  could  be  blockaded  and  forced 
into  submission. 

The  story  of  that  fatal  enterprise  cannot  be"  told 
here.  Alkibiades'  own  part  in  it  was  fated  to  be  a 
strange  one.  He  had  carried  the  Assembly  with 
him,  in  defiance  of  Nikias'  warnings,  and  a  great 
fleet  was  fitted  out,  when  on  the  very  eve  of  saihng 
a  catastrophe  occurred  which  wrecked  aU  his  ambi- 
tions, and  altered  the  course  of  his  whole  hfe.  An 
outrage  took  place  which  touched  the  superstitious 
citizens  of  Athens  on  a  weak  side.  One  night  the 
sacred  images  known  as  the  Hermae  were  mutilated 
by  unknown  hands.  Suspicion  fell  on  Alkibiades 
and  his  wild  companions.  Though  aUowed  to  sail, 
he  was  condemned  in  his  absence  and  forced  to  flee 


HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION 


XXlll 


I 


for  his  life.  He  fled  to  Sparta.  There  he  urged,  in 
concert  with  the  Corinthians,  that  help  should  be 
sent  to  Syracuse;  this  advice,  more  than  anything 
else.,  worked  the  destruction  of  the  Athenian  ex- 
pedition, which  through  Nikias'  feeble  generalship 
was  lost  to  a  man.  Alkibiades  also  pointed  out  to 
the  Spartans  that  the  permanent  occupation  of 
some  strategic  point  in  Attica  would  do  more  harm 
than  a  dozen  annual  raids.  The  fortification  of 
Dekelea  was  henceforward  a  perpetual  thorn  in 
Athens'  side. 

Meanwhile,  however,  Alkibiades  had  made  things 
too  hot  for  him  at  Sparta  :    and  he  moved  to  the 
south  coast  of  Asia  Minor  where  he  made  advances 
to  the  great  King's  satrap  and  was  received  at  his 
court.     As  it  so  happened,  the  focus  of  the  war  now 
shifted   in   the   same   direction.     When   the   news 
came  from  Sicily  that  the  Athenian  fleet  was  lost, 
.it  put  heart  into  many  of  Athens'  more  distant 
nUies,  and  she  was  soon  faced  with  the  danger  of 
\  general  revolt.     At  home,  moreover,  her  enemies 
lad   by  now   equipped   a  fleet   strong  enough  to 
[venture  across  the  Aegean,  and  render  invaluable 
aid  to   the   rebels.     Now  it  was   that  Alkibiades 
veered  round  once  more  ;  for  traitor  as  he  was,  his 
heart  still  turned  towards  his  own  town  :    and  he 
jwas  not  slow  to  use  this  changed  aspect  of  affairs 
to  his  own  advantage.     By  a  series  of  intrigues  he 
[first  of  all  procured  a  coup  d'etat  in  Athens,  by 
hvhich  the  conservative  party  estabhshed  a  narrow 
roligarchical    regime,    pledged    to    recall    the    true 
author  of  its  being.     Then,  when  he  foresaw  the 
imminent  failure  of  this  short-hved  government,  he 
changed  sides  once  more,  declared  himself  a  true 


xnv 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


-«6i»i* 


democrat,  proceeded  to  Samos  and  there  joined  the 
fleet,  which  had  throughout  remained  loyal  to  the 
old  political  ideal. 

He  was  now  once  again  in  command  of  his 
country's  forces.  He  took  up  the  war  against  her 
enemies  to  some  purpose.  After  two  or  three 
briUiant  victories  in  the  Sea  of  Marmora  he  was  re- 
called to  Athens  and  received  with  a  great  ovation. 

But  his  hold  upon  the  populace  was  no  longer 
what  it  had  been.  A  naval  defeat  suffered  in  his 
absence,  and  in  disregard  of  his  orders,^  was  turned 
against  him  and  he  was  dismissed  from  his  command. 
This  time  he  retired  to  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
Troad,  and  Hved  under  the  protection  of  a  friendly 
satrap  Pharnabazos. 

Athens'    fortunes    now    rapidly    decHned.     Her 
fleet,  no  longer  the  invincible  weapon  of  former 
days,  and  manned  in  part  at  least  by  slaves,  was 
finally    destroyed    in    the    battle    of   Aigospotami. 
By  this  she  lost  her  command  of  the  Hellespont, 
and  with  it  the  power  to  import  her  indispensable  j 
suppUes.     Her  coasts  were  unprotected,   and  she  \ 
was  forced  to  capitulate.     The  Long  Walls  were  ^ 
razed.     A  Philo-Spartan  committee  of  thirty  was  ' 
put  in  control  of  the  city,  and  a  Reign  of  Terror  set 
in.     Amongst  other  crimes  which  the  thirty  com- 
mitted, they  induced  Pharnabazos  to  procure  the 
murder  of  Alkibiades  himself,  so  apprehensive  were 
they  even  now  of  his  power  to  harm.      He  died 
^  miserably  at  the  hands  of  hired  assassins,— a  just  j 
fate. 


I.  ALKIBIADES'  BOYHOOD 

Each  of  you  show 

Tou  what  you  taught  their  fathers  of  old, 
Tou  let  us  know 

Your  system  untried,  that  hearing  each  side 
From  the  lips  of  the  Rivals  the  youth  may  decide 
i  o  which  of  your  schools  he  will  go. 

Aristophanes,  Clmids. 
(Translation  by  Mr.  B.  B.  Rogers.) 

It  is  according  to  the  fashion  of  these  times  that 
the  hero  of  a  biography  should  be  treated  like  a  race- 
horse and  provided  with  a  pedigree.    And  since  this 
IS  so,  let  us  begin  with  Ajax.    Alkibiades  claimed 
to  be,  and  may  for  all  that  we  know,  have  been,  a 
descendant  of  that  illustrious  warrior;    but  when 
all  IS  said,  that  is  much  as  if  you  or  I  claimed  kinship 
with  Sir  Launcelot  of  the  Lake.     So  we  may  well 
leave  Ajax  on  one  side  and  pass  to  a  less  shadowy 
figure,  old  Alkmeon.    Alkmeon  has  the  best  of  rights 
to  be  considered  the  founder  of  the  great  famUy  to 
wluch  Alkibiades  belonged;    for  they  all  bore  his 
name     Along  with  it  they  seem  to  have  inherited 
something  of  his  fortune  and  not  a  little  of  his  wit 
for  If  Herodotos  at  least  is  to  be  trusted,  he  was  a 
man  of  no  common  shrewdness.     Once  upon  a  time 
so  we  are  told  he  was  paying  a  visit  to  Kroesos  in 
l.ydia  when  that  genial  monarch  out  of  the  bounty 
of  his  heart  and  the  abundance  of  his  treasure  made 


4 


'i 


*  i 


2  THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

him  an  offer  of  '  as  much  money  as  he  could  carry 
about  his  person.'   Thereupon  Alkmeon  clothed  him- 
self in  his  biggest  tunic,  and  borrowing  the  widest 
pair  of  buskins  available,  entered  the  treasure-house 
so  clad.     There  he  stuffed  as  much  gold  dust  as 
might  be  between  the  buskins  and  his  legs,  and 
pouching  all  he  could  inside  his  tunic,  sprinkling 
some  more  on  his  hair,  and  taking  a  last  consignment 
in  his  mouth,  he  came  forth  '  scarce  able  to  drag  his 
legs  along,  the  queerest  figure  of  a  man,  with  his 
mouth  cram-fuU,  and  his  figure  bulging  out  in  aU 
directions.'    With  such  an  ancestor  the  Alkmeonidae 
had  plainly  a  reputation  to  maintain.    They  early 
did  so.    One  of  their  number,  Megakles,  was  in 
office  at  a  time  when  faction  was  rife,  and  an  attempt 
was  made  to  overthrow  the  constitution.     The  in- 
surgents, being  beaten,  cHmbed  to  the  Akropolis 
and  sat  down  at  the  sanctuary  of  Athena.     This, 
after  much  parleying  and  upon  an  express  promise 
of  pardon,  they  were  at  length  induced  to  quit ; 
not,  however,  until  they  had,  as  a  precautionary 
measure,    estabUshed    communications   with   their 
divine  protectress,  by  Unking  themselves  with  a  rope 
to  her  Altar-stone.     Keeping  a  firm  hold  upon  the 
other  end  of  the  rope,  they  were  venturing  down 
the  hillside,  when  Megakles  had  the  rope  summarily 
cut,  and  then  butchered  the  suppHants  to  a  man. 
This  was  a  blot  upon  the  family  honour,  which  his 
descendants  were  never  allowed  to  forget. 

Under  the  Tyrants  they  suffered  confiscation  and 
exile  ;  but  after  an  unsuccessful  appeal  to  arms  they 
won  a  bloodless  victory  and  a  reputation  for  patriot- 
ism to  boot,  by  a  somewhat  dim  manipulation  of 
the  Delphic  oracle.    There  were  ugly  rumours  too 


f 


1^ 


ALKIBIADES'  BOYHOOD  3 

about  their  collusion  with  the  Persians  and  stories 
of  a  shield  flashed  from  the  mountain  above  Mara- 
thon. But  whatever  truth  there  may  be  in  the  tales 
related  of  this  entertaining  family,  a  full  measure 
of  their  ingenuity,  high  spirit  and  plentiful  lack 
of  principle  descended  to  Alkibiades  through  his 
mother  Deinomache,  who  must  herself  have  been 
either  a  very  astute  or  a  very  attractive  lady  :  for 
she  married  three  husbands,  one  of  whom  was  no 
less  a  person  than  her  kinsman  Perikles. 

Of  the  father  of  Alkibiades,  Kleinias  by  name,  less 
is  known.  He  sailed  as  ship's  captain  in  the  Great 
Wars,  sunk  a  Persian  galley  off  the  north  of  Euboea, 
and  thirty  years  later  fell  on  the  stricken  field  of 
Koronea. 

Such  antecedents  gave  to  his  son  a  high  standing 
at  Athens  and,  since  his  mother's  family  had  always 
stood  for  democracy,  a  decided  pohtical  bias  as  well. 
Nevertheless  we  shall  find  that  in  making  an  esti- 
mate of  him  we  look  forward  rather  than  back. 
He  belonged  to  a  New  Age.  For  just  now  a  new 
spirit,  call  it  Individualism  or  what  you  will,  was 
stirring  in  Greece.  The  apple  of  the  Tree  of 
Knowledge  was  once  again  between  men's  teeth, 
and  the  old  order  of  comfortable  dependence  on 
tradition  was  passing  away.  The  new  order  came, 
for  a  brief  season  flourished,  and  was,  in  its  turn, 
forgotten ;  and  when  after  centuries  of  ignorance  and 
superstition,  Europe  awoke  and  tasted  again  of  that 
dangerous  fruit,  it  was  from  the  tomb  of  Greece 
that  she  took  it.  Athens  and  the  Renaissance  may 
stand  two  thousand  years  apart.  But  the  spirit 
of  both  is  essentially  the  same.  The  intervening 
chimges,  such  as  they  were,  are  no  great  matter. 


I 


4  THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

Alkibiades  scoffed,  it  is  true,  at  the  prophecies  of 
Apollo,  not  at  the  Bulls  of  the  Pope  :  he  could  never 
have  done  a  three-figure  sum  without  the  aid  of  a 
counting-board  :  he  was  even  content  to  clothe 
his  body  in  nothing  more  elaborate  than  two  square 
lengths  of  cloth.  But,  among  the  asphodel  of  the 
Elysian  meadows,  he  must,  I  fancy,  be  loitering  and 
lisping  with  Philip  Sidney  and  Lorenzo  il  Magnifico 
upon  either  ghostly  arm. 

Of  his  infancy  there  is  little  to  tell.  Upon  his 
arrival  in  the  world  the  Olive-wreath  was  duly  hung 
at  the  street  door,  as  was  the  custom  when  parents 
were  pleased  with  their  child.  Superfluous  babies, 
especially  girls,  had  in  Greece  but  a  cold  welcome ; 
the  truth  being  that,  at  Sparta  always,  and  at  Athens 
not  infrequently,  they  received  the  shortest  of  shrifts, 
being  summarily  exposed,  or  as  the  phrase  ran 
(in  days  when  earthenware  was  more  common  than 
carpet  bags)  '  potted.' 

Alkibiades,  happily  escaping  the  fate  of  little 
Spartan  boys  who  were  not  wanted,  stumbled  upon 
the  hardly  more  enviable  fate  of  those  that  were. 
For  he  fell  into  the  clutches  of  a  Spartan  nurse. 
His  family  frankly  admired  Spartan  methods ;  they 
had  friends  at  Sparta  ;  and  partly  perhaps  out  of 
compliment  to  these,  partly  in  memory  of  his  great- 
grandfather, it  was  a  Spartan  name  they  gave  him 
when  his  Tenth  or  Naming  Day  came  round. 

Amykla,  for  that  was  his  nurse's  name,  knew  how 
to  train  a  baby.  Thanks  to  her,  he  was  never  con- 
verted into  a  miniature  mummy  by  the  cramping 
process  of  wearing  swaddling  clothes  as  most  Uttle 
Athenian  victims  wore  them.  She  watched  over 
his  physical  development  as  only  a  Spartan  could. 


•«'♦ 


♦ " 


ALKIBIADES'  BOYHOOD  5 

So  that,  when  the  time  came  that  the  hoop  and 
the  little  go-cart  should  be  exchanged  for  the  dice 
and  strigil,^  his  handsome  face  and  perfect  figure 
were  the  talk  of  the  town.  He  won  quite  golden 
opinions  from  that  impressionable  old  preacher, 
Sokrates ;  and  even  a  master-potter  seeking  for  a 
dedication  to  his  latest  bowl,  wrote  on  its  margin 
'  Alkibiades  is  fair.' 

If  his  body  bore  the  genuine  Spartan  stamp, 
his  character  certainly  did  not.  After  his  father's 
death,  he  had  passed  to  the  care  of  two  guardians, 
Ariphron  and  his  own  kinsman  Perikles.  He  fell  foul 
of  both.  Ariphron  was  a  fussy  man,  and  once,  when 
the  boy  ran  away  from  them,  he  would  have  sent  the 
Public  Crier  crying  him  lost  through  all  the  streets 
of  Athens.  As  for  Perikles,  he  was  mostly  too  busy 
to  humour  his  troublesome  ward,  and  on  one  occasion 
aroused  his  deep  resentment  by  refusing  him  an 
audience.  ^  Doing  accounts  for  the  public  audit, 
is  he  ? '  said  the  boy  in  a  temper ;  '  the  best  accounts 
for  him  to  give,  you  may  tell  him,  are  none  at  all.' 

Every  Athenian  boy  of  any  standing  needed  an 
attendant  slave,  whom  they  called  a  pedagogue,^  and 
who  served  him  as  '  nurse,  footman,  chaperon  and 
tutor '  rolled  into  one.  Perikles  chose  an  incom- 
petent fool :  as  a  result  Alkibiades  led  the  old  man 
a  rare  dance,  and  ended  by  breaking  a  stick  across 
the  fellow's  back. 

One  of  the  pedagogue's  chief  duties  was  to  escort 
his  young  master  to  and  from  the  day-school,  kept 

*  An  instrument  used  in  the  gymnasium  to  scrape  the  body  after 
violent  exercise. 

*  The  *  Pedagogue  *  or  Boy-leader  was  a  slave  who  looked  after  a 
boy,  taking  him  to  school  and  bringing  him  home  again,  and  seeing 
that  he  did  not  fall  into  trouble  by  the  way. 


I 


ti 


6  THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

by  one  Zopyros.     Here  Alkibiades  was  a  hero  from 
the  start.    All  the  boys  worshipped  him,  from  the 
little  seven-year-olds  with  nice  manners  and  arms 
neatly   tucked   under   their   cloaks,   to    the   young 
Hectors  who  took  pet  dogs  to  school  with  them 
and  were  just  learning  to  lounge  and  gossip  in  the 
market-place.     Every  one  petted  and  spoilt  him. 
He  it  was  set  the  fashions.     And  when,  for  instance, 
he  led  a  revolt  against  learning  the  flute,  every  one 
agreed  with  him  that  making  mouths  was  an  unbe- 
coming pastime  only  fit  for  Thebans  and  flute  girls. 
But  the  prescribed  routine,  reading,  writing  and 
arithmetic,  he  could  not  escape.     And  dull  enough 
work  he  found  it  we  may  be  sure,  bending  over  the 
tablet  on  his  knee,  and  tracing  letters  in  the  wax, 
or  counting  tens  and  hundreds  on  the  counting- 
board.     *  How  many  letters  are  there  in  Sophokles  ? ' 
*  Alkibiades,  it  is  vulgar  to  cross  your  legs.'     *  What 
letter  is  like  a  curl  of  hair  ? '     So  the  interminable 
catechism  ran  on,  questions  to  which  he  knew  the 
answer  before  ever  they  were  asked.     How  much 
more  amusing  were  those  which  he  asked  himself ! 
Whence  did  the  Httle  imp  hail  that  cleaned  the 
desks  ?     Why  was  he  born  black  ?     Did  the  Muses 
really  wear  a  sickly  smile  and  leer  through  two  eye- 
sHts,  like  their  statues  in  the  corner  ?  and  as  he 
pondered  over  this,  he  would  recall  that  the  next 
day   was   their   festival,    and   that   meant   a   whole 
hohday  and  a  ramble  on  Mount  Hymettos.     And 
now  he  thought  of  it,  there  was  a  preliminary  pro- 
cession at  the  Peiraieus  that  very  afternoon.     Most 
certainly  he  should  not  return  to  school  after  the 
midday   break :     and  he   fell   to   modelUng   little 
figures  from  the  wax  scraped  off  his  '  slate.' 


%   4 


rm 


•  ♦ 


*«♦ 


ALKIBIADES'  BOYHOOD  7 

*  Alkibiades,  you  are  to  take  the  letter  Delta,  for 
that  alone  remains.'  He  woke  from  his  dream  amid 
general  derision  ;  a  spelling  drama  was  in  progress, 
and  Zopyros  had  given  him  the  letter  that  they 
brand  upon  runaway  slaves.^  Still,  in  spite  of 
wandering  thoughts  he  learnt  quickly,  and  once  won 
fifty  knuckle-bones  '  for  writing  nicely.' 

Progress,  however,  as  far  as  he  was  concerned, 
was  a  step  from  bad  to  worse.  The  letters  known, 
reading  next ;  reading  without  stops  or  divisions 
between  words  to  help  you,  and  all  in  an  Attic 
accent  most  correct. 

Then  came  repetition,  hundreds  of  hexameters 
to  get  by  heart,  till  he  loathed  the  very  name,  of 
Homer,  and  hated  grown-ups  who  could  repeat  the 
entire  Iliad,  and,  what  was  worse,  always  let  him 
know  it.  But  the  time  came  when  he  could  re- 
taliate by  innocently  inquiring,  whether  they  could 
in  that  case  explain  precisely  what  the  poet  meant 
by  *  eldritch  sprites.'  ^  The  first  taste  of  the  power 
of  words  was  like  honey  to  the  mouth. 

About  the  same  time  that  he  made  this  last  dis- 
covery, he  also  made  a  remarkable  friendship.  It 
came  about  at  the  music  school.  Like  all  Athenian 
boys,  Alkibiades  learnt  the  lyre ;  for  every  gentle- 
man was  expected  to  be  able  to  sing  an  after-dinner 
song  and  to  play  his  own  accompaniment.  It  was 
only  an  upstart  like  Themistokles  that  could  afford 
to  boast  '  I  cannot  fiddle  but  I  can  make  a  city 
great.'     So  Alkibiades  learnt  the  lyre  at  the  school 

»  D  for  ApaTTfT);?.  This  may  have  been  used  as  the  letter  K  was 
used  at  Rome  for  Kalumnia.  On  the  other  hand,  slave-owners  may 
each  have  employed  their  own  initials.     There  seems  no  clear  evidence. 

»  An  attempt  to  reproduce  in  old-fashioned  English  the  Homeric 
phrase  dfieyqva  Kaprjvcu 


A 


/ 


8 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


of  a  well-known  harpist.  Among  the  pupils  of 
this  school  was  a  middle-aged  sculptor  named 
Sokrates.  He  must  have  cut  as  odd  a  figure  in 
this  place  as  an  elderly  don  at  a  dancing-class ;  but 
Sokrates  had  little  fear  of  ridicule ;  and  besides,  he 
found  there  unHmited  opportunities  for  conver- 
sation. He  talked  to  the  boys  in  season  and  out  of 
season,  upon  politics  and  ethics,  and  Heaven  knows 
what  else,  but  invariably  above  their  heads.  If  he 
was  called  up  for  his  lesson,  he  would  linger  to  finish 
a  discussion  on  the  morality  of  the  gods  in  Homer ; 
and  when  the  master  was  fairly  embarked  on  Lam- 
prokles'  'Pallas,  dread  sacker  of  cities,'  he  would 
interrupt  with  a  demand  for  some  definition  of 
harmony  :  and  when  it  was  reluctantly  given,  he 
would  sit  there  on  his  stool  arguing  till  the  rest  of 
the  class  had  stolen  away ;  then  having  forced  the 
wretched  lyre-master  to  the  conclusion  that  what 
he  called  harmony  was  nothing  else  than  discord, 
he  would  pursue  his  fellow  pupils  and  cross-examine 
them  all  the  way  home  about  all  manner  of  subjects, 
all  the  while  lamenting  his  own  deplorable  ignor- 
ance. Many  of  the  boys  were  bored,  but  Alkibiades 
drank  in  this  as  yet  untasted  knowledge  like  new 
wine. 

And  like  new  wine,  it  intoxicated  his  young  brain. 
He  learnt  to  quibble  and  spUt  straws ;  he  would 
have  outdone  Olivia's  own  fool  at  verbal  jugglery. 
All  that  he  had  been  brought  up  to  reverence  and 
obey,  he  now  called  in  question  with  the  zest  of  a 
third-year  'varsity  cynic.  Little  wonder  that  when 
he  left  school,  he  had  no  fear  for  either  God  or 
man. 

Already  at  fourteen  he  had  bidden  farewell  to  his 


V 


«» 


>  * 

/ 


/ 


ALKIBIADES'  BOYHOOD  9 

grammar-master ;  at  eighteen  he  must  enter  upon 
his  two  years  of  miUtary  service.  In  the  interim 
he  was  free  more  or  less  to  kick  his  heels.  At  the 
moment  the  rank  and  fashion  of  Athens  were  crazy 
after  Culture.  The  hero  of  the  hour  was  the  sophist 
of  the  powerful  tongue  and  the  narrow  chest. 
Even  the  great  Perikles  counted  among  his  friends 
many  of  these  intellectual  upstarts  and  condescended 
to  argue  with  them.  It  was  said  that  once  he 
spent  a  whole  forenoon  discussing  with  Protagoras 
an  accident  which  befell  a  horse  at  the  races ;  one 
laying  its  death  at  the  door  of  the  man  who  threw 
the  fatal  spear,  the  other  declaring  the  guilt  to  lie 
either  with  the  javelin  or  with  the  President  of  the 
games.  Alkibiades,  who  set  the  mode  among  his 
associates  in  everything  from  a  lisp  to  leggings, 
*  went  in  '  for  culture  with  a  vengeance.  He  at- 
tended lectures  on  the  square  root  of  three,  and 
learnt  to  draw  a  proposition  *  concerning  circles  ' 
in  the  sand.  He  paid  a  high  sum  for  a  course  on 
the  '  whole  duty  of  the  citizen,'  and  argued  a  point 
with  the  lecturer.  Whenever  a  ship  put  in  from 
the  West,  he  would  send  a  slave  down  to  the  port 
to  inquire  what  new  savant  was  aboard.  Whenever 
his  cousin  Kallias  held  his  '  salon,'  the  doors  were 
open  to  him  and  his  friends ;  and  on  the  day  that 
his  favourite  professor  left  the  town  to  tour  in  the 
Peloponnesos,  he  was  mad  to  follow  him,  and  was 
half  way  to  Megara  before  the  others  could  prevail 
on  him  to  turn  back. 

Throughout  such  a  bacchanaUa  of  enthusiasms 

this  strayed  reveller  had  soon  lit  his  torch  at  many 

/  a  wayside  shrine  :    but  he  never  whoUy  forgot  the 

high  priest  who  first  had  drawn  for  him  the  curtain 


^*« 


^~D 


10 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


ALKIBIADES'  BOYHOOD 


II 


from  the  mysteries  of  life.     Sokrates  was  never  far 
from  his  side,  rolling  his  big  serious  eyes  like  an  ox, 
and  sometimes  drawing  eager  answers  from  his  pupil 
as  they  probed  together  some  of  the  deeper  problems 
of   philosophy.     Then    the    mood    would    change. 
The  boy  would  yawn  over  some  discourse  upon  '  self- 
control  '  and  be  off  to  concoct  some  devilment  with 
a  young  blackguard  called  Anytos.     But  Sokrates 
had  a  tenderness  even  for  the  boy's  delinquencies ; 
and  seeing  him  somewhat  less  than  sober  at  the 
Feast  of  Pots,  vowed  he  was  '  as  fair  as  Love  in  the 
picture  with  a  cro^n  of  roses  on  his  golden  head.' 
Some  mysterious  spell,  too,  was  cast  by  the  philo- 
sophic pipings  of  this  uncouth  latter-day  Orpheus. 
Affection  indeed  as  deep  as  an  old  pagan  saint  might 
well  feel  for  a  young  pagan  sinner,  could  not  fail  to 
triumph  in   the   end  through  its  very  manHness. 
Then  there   would   be   real    tears   of   repentance, 
and  a  lecture  that  began  by  being  very  personal, 
and  strayed  very  soon  to  aUen  subjects,  Alkibiades 
knowing  precisely  when  it  was  prudent  to  turn  the 
current  and  ask  for  a  definition  of  *  Virtue.' 

The  friendship  between  this  incongruous  pair 
was  cemented  above  all  at  the  Wresthng-School. 
There  it  was  that  Sokrates,  snatching  chances  for 
conversation  from  the  intervals  of  athletics,  contrived 
to  '  lead  the  youth  of  Athens  astray.'  The  great 
playground  of  the  Academy  lay  out  in  the  plain 
on  the  western  side  of  Athens.  It  was  a  pleasant 
place  for  lounging  and  gossip  as  well  as  for  sport  : 
for  Kimon  had  laid  it  out  with  shady  avenues  and 
running  streams.  And  though  it  is  now  a  parched 
and  dusty  field  and  the  Kephisos  is  clotted  with 
mud,  it  must  once  have  been  a  spot  of  beauty  above 


»  >k 


i 


all  in  the  spring-time  *  amid  the  fragrance  of  smilax 
and  of  leisure  and  white  poplar,  what  time  the 
plane-tree  whispers  to  the  elm.'  Hither  crowds 
of  demure  little  boys  and  sturdy  youths  would 
make  their  way  through  the  midday  dust  and 
heat;  and  out  under  the  glare  of  the  sun  in  the 
great  cloistered  court  dozens  of  naked  glistening 
figures  ran  and  jumped,  learnt  to  swing  the  quoit 
and  aim  the  spear,  or  rolled  and  wrestled  in  the 
sand. 

Towards  the  cool  of  the  evening,  knots  of  bearded 
men,  too,  filtered  out  from  th^  Dipylon  gate,  to 
watch  the  training,  gossip  about  the  coming  games, 
or  take  a  turn  themselves  before  their  supper.  One 
night  Sokrates  and  his  friends  repaired  thither. 
The  philosopher  was  left  behind  at  the  bridge,  for  a 
thinking  fit  had  come  upon  him  by  the  way ;  but  of 
his  companions  some  immediately  stripped  for  exer- 
cise, one  stout  burgess  set  to  with  a  quoit,  to  get  rid 
of  a  tiresome  headache  ;  a  second,  finding  that  the 
instructor  was  engaged,  practised  the  cross-buttock 
throw  on  imaginary  opponents,  to  the  great  diver- 
sion of  the  less  energetic.  These  intellectual  lag- 
gards took  a  turn  or  two  up  and  down  the  shady 
colonnade,  and  then,  hearing  the  voice  of  Sokrates, 
turned  off  into  one  of  the  undressing  rooms.  Here 
the  indefatigable  talker  had  come  upon  the  two  boys 
Lysis  and  Charmides  as  they  were  putting  on  their 
cloaks,  and  he  was  plying  them  as  usual  with  ques- 
tions. '  Did  they  hope  to  be  as  fine  men  as  were 
their  fathers  ?  '  *  How  much  did  they  pay  for 
their  training  ? '  Thus  they  were  led  innocently 
on  till  there  came  the  alarming,  though  perhaps 
not  wholly  unforeseen    inquiry,   '  Why   did    they 


I 


12  THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

pay  nobody  to  train  their  souls  too  ? '  and  they 
were  at  once  floundering  in  the  meshes  of  an 
argument. 

At  this  moment  Altibiad^s  entered ;   he  was  to 
wrestle  with  Autolykos,  and  the  winner  should  enter 
hjs  name  for  the  great  Games.     As  he  takes  oflF  his 
cloak,  a  slave  rolls  it  up  and,  disposing  it  in  coils  as 
one  rolls  up  a  hose,  leaves  it  upon  a  neighbouring 
bench  ^;   a  second  slave,  known  by  the  elegant  name 
of  the '  oil  and  scraper '  man,  pours  over  him  the  con- 
tents of  a  narrow-necked,  pot-beUied  flask.     Every 
one  stops  chattering  to  watch  the  match.     Even 
Crlaukon  leaves  scratching  love-poems  on  the  walls. 
Sokrates'  victims  are  stiU  kept  weU  in  hand,  but 
they  can  hear  the  piper  strike  up  to  set  the  time. 
The  tramer's  voice  says,  '  Set  your  right  hand  so— 
shift  your  ground— engage.'     Then  there  is  silence 
except    for    the   panting    of   the   pair.     Suddenly 
comes  the  crack  of  the  trainer's  forked  stick  on 
the  bare  flesh.     '  You  bite,  Alkibiades,  like  a  girl.' 
No,  sir,  like  a  lion,'  says  an  angry  voice,  and  its 
owner  comes  in  fuming.     He  vents  his  ill-humour 
on  the  unlucky  slave  who  scrapes  him  down  with  a 
bill-shaped  implement  from  head  to  foot.     After 
his  water  douche,  he  has  hardly  patience  for  the 
hnal    oihng    that    should    complete    his    toilette. 
When  I  am  in  my  uncle's  place,'  he  mutters,  *  I  'U 
pack  that  trainer  about  his  business.     Does  he  take 
Athens  for  a  city  of  slaves  ? '    As  he  made  off, 
bokrates  followed  him  under  the  ohves ;  the  nightin- 
gales were  singing  clamorously  round  the  mound  of 
Kolonos ;  and  in  the  dusk  the  sage,  though  Httle 
given  to  song,  found  himself  humming  over  the 


ALKIBIADES'  BOYHOOD 


13 


lines  of  a  chorus  written  long  ago  by  a  grim  old 
poet.^ 

*  They  have  stolen  the  whelp  of  a  lioness, 

Wcan*d  it  and  bred  it  at  home, 

The  toy  of  the  children's  kindness. 
The  joy  of  the  old  man's  blindness — 

Till  the  fulness  of  time  be  come. 

Those  soft  cycsy  who  could  have  dreaded  ? 

Those  large  soft  eyes  that  fawn, 

On  the  hand  of  the  friend  that  has  fed  it 
While  it  lies  in  the  arms  that  have  bred  it. 

As  gentle  as  babe  new-born. 

But  the  son  of  the  old  lion's  daughter 

His  debt  shall  at  last  make  good  ; 
Will  he  stay  for  his  master's  order — 
To  be  filling  the  folds  with  slaughter 

And  the  home  with  a  welter  of  blood  ? ' 


1  Aeschylos  in  the  Agamemnon, 


'¥ 


AN  ATTIC  FARM 


IS 


\\ 


i 


II.  AN  ATTIC  FARM 

Regum  acquabat  opes  animis.— Vergil. 

In  the  neighbourhood  of  Phlya— not  many  miles 
along   the    Kephisia    road— there   lived   a    farmer 

aIJ^u^  P^T^''^^'-    H^  ^''^  J^een  an  intimate  of 
Alkibiades  father  :  and  Alkibiades  well  remembered 

!?f  ?8.  ^^^  p^t  ?^°  °^*^°  ^*  t^^^ir  liome.     Then 
Kleimas  had  died  ;   and  soon  after  (for  some  reason 
which  the  boy  had  never  fully  understood)  the  visits 
to  Athens  had  ceased.    But  although  Demokrates 
came  to  the  city  no  more,  his  friendship  for  the 
father  was  extended  to  the  son;  and  Alkibiades 
when  he  was  old  enough  to  go  there,  came  to  regard 
the  farm  at  Phlya  as  a  second  home.    Young  fire- 
brand though  he  was,  he  took  an  honest  pleasure 
in  the  old  man's  company ;  he  would  sit  for  hours 
listening  to  interminable  tales  of  Kimon  and  Aris- 
teides  and  of  battles  fought  against  the  long-haired 
Medes.    Even  in  his  wilder  moods,  he  felt  some- 
thing of  an  awe  for  his  host's  dignified  old-fashioned 
ways,  which  were  so  different  from  the  ways  of  the 
men  he  met  in  Athens.     For  the  city  (though  Alki- 
biades was  too  young  to  know  it)  was  changing  in 
manners  and  morals  and  ideals.     But  the  country 
if  It  changes  at  all,  changes  very  slowly ;  and  while 
a  new  restlessness  of  spirit  was  troubling  the  peace 
of  Athens,  while  her  streets  were  loud  with  noisy 
arguments  of  philosophers  and  quacks,  and  while 


-■n 


r  • 


the  taint  of  foreign  luxury  already  threatened  to 
invade  her  homes,  these  quiet  hamlets  and  secluded 
steadings  preserved  the  old  simple  primeval  inno- 
cence of  rural  life.  The  men  who  lived  in  them 
seemed  almost  the  survivors  of  a  long-forgotten  age 
when  kings  and  princes  walked  behind  the  plough, 
and  when  Odysseus  came  upon  Laertes  pruning  the 
fruit-trees  in  the  orchard  plot. 

It  was  a  favourite  saying  of  Demokrates  that  the 
farm  had  been  in  his  family  since  Priam  ruled  in 
Troy.  Though  there  is  some  doubt  whether  his 
pedigree  could  have  been  carried  back  a  century, 
yet  he  seemed  himself  in  his  own  person  to  support 
and  justify  this  boast.  For  he  was  altogether  of  a 
piece  with  the  past ;  and  of  this  it  was  a  kind  of 
symbol  that  he  retained  Uke  so  many  of  his  sort 
an  antiquated  style  of  dress,  wearing  at  all  times 
the  finest  linen  (instead  of  wool,  as  others  did)  and 
binding  his  hair  up  in  a  large  knob,  which  was  held 
together  by  a  golden  pin  shaped  like  a  grasshopper. 
There  was,  too,  an  old-fashioned  flavour  about  his 
speech,  about  the  superannuated  oaths  he  used, 
and  about  his  simple  piety.  He  was  as  strict  as  a 
Pharisee  in  his  observances  of  feasts  or  sacrifices, 
and  never  did  he  let  a  new  moon  go  by  without 
anointing  himself  (and  his  wife)  from  a  full  flask  of 
seasoned  olive  oil. 

As  was  natural,  his  piety  and  honest  character  had 
won  him  a  high  place  in  his  neighbours'  esteem  ; 
and  on  more  than  one  occasion  they  had  elected  him 
'  H[eadman  '  of  the  parish. 

Once,  too,  he  had  been  chosen  out  and  sent  to 
Athens  as  candidate  for  the  Magistracy  of  the  year. 
Tlie  cast  of  the  lots,  as  it  so  happened,  had  favoured 


\ 


i6  THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

him,  but  at  the  end  of  the  year  and  from  the  day 
that  he  laid  down  office,  he  had  forsworn  politics 
altogether,  and  seemed  to  avoid  every  contact  with 
the  city.  For  this  he  would  give  no  satisfactory 
reason  ;  and,  if  pressed,  would  declare  that  Athens 
might  go  her  way  to  perdition  without  help  from 
him.  Sometimes  he  added,  half  in  jest,  that  the 
^  blame  shou  d  be  laid  in  equivalent  proportions  on 
the  sophists'  lectures  and  the  hot  bath-house. 

It  was  therefore  only  natural  that  he  spoke  rarely 
of  current  poUtics.     His  opinions,  when  he  did  so 
were  trenchant  and  strongly  biased.    The  farmers  of 
Attica  were,  as  farmers  are  wont  to  be,  of  a  conserva- 
tive turn  of  mind,  and  Demokrates  was  no  excep- 
tion.    He  had  never  a  good  word  to  say  for  Perikles 
a  demagogue  who  does  but  tickle  the  people's 
palate.      Ambitious  schemes  of  Empire  frightened 
him.     The  levying  of  tribute  on  the  aUies  he  termed 
unjust  extortion   the  spending  of  it  on  monuments 
and  temples    selfish  pride.     In  this  connection  he 
would  hken  Athens  to  an  idle  woman  spending  her 
husband  s  money  on  the  adornment  of  her  person. 
JJut  we  shall  reap,  as  we  have  sown,'  was  his  con- 
clusion.      There  wiU  come  a  day  of  reckoning  with 
these  men  across  the  sea.'     For  Sparta  he  professed 
open  sympathy,  admiring  them  for  their  rugged 
candour  and  stern  self-discipline.     His  own  phUo- 
sophy  of  hfe  lay  in  a  studied  moderation.     The  old 
saw.  Nothing  too  much,  was  constantly  upon  his  lips. 
He  had  for  the  sm  of  pride  a  special  horror ;  it  was 
lus  firm  behef  that  a  Power  above  lay  in  wait  against 
the  insolent  and  boastful,  and  for  this  behef  he 
would  quote  numerous  proofs  drawn  from  history 
and  from  his  favourite  poet  Aeschylos.    Zeus    as 


-Si 


I 


•<« 


I 


AN  ATTIC  FARM 


i7 


Demokrates  conceived  him,  was  an  unpleasantly 
jealous  and  vindictive  being.^ 

Some  said  he  had  been  soured  by  the  ruin  of  his 
own  ambitions,  but  there  was  more  of  resignation 
than  of  cynicism  in  Demokrates'  philosophy.  The 
truth  was  that  during  his  year  of  office,  he  had  done 
his  utmost  to  stem  the  rising  tide  of  democracy,  and 
had  been  an  active  partisan  of  Thukydides  ^  when 
that  unlucky  leader  pitted  himself  against  the  grow- 
ing power  of  Perikles.  But  the  current  was  too 
strong  for  them.  Thukydides  had  fallen  in  dis- 
grace ;  Demokrates,  losing  hope,  had  retired  to  seek 
consolation  on  his  farm. 

Here  by  long  industry  and  sound  economy  he 
had  amassed  a  moderate  fortune,  and  was  able 
gradually  to  extend  the  boundaries  of  the  estate. 
His  olive  groves  were  the  pride  of  Phlya  :  his  corn 
crops  were  never  known  to  fail.  But  prosperity 
brought  no  change  in  his  condition.  He  had  a 
distaste  for  comforts,  and  often  spoke  bitterly  of 
the  growing  luxury  of  the  age.  '  It  is  a  shameful 
thing,'  he  would  say,  ^  for  Greeks  to  live  like  soft 
barbarians.'  His  own  house  was  very  unpretentious. 
Like  other  farmhouses  it  stood  in  a  large  court- 
yard, surrounded  by  high  mud  walls.  Down  two 
sides  of  this  enclosure  ran  open  sheds,  in  which  agri- 
cultural implements  were  stored  and  which  provided 
shelter  for  the  oxen  during  winter,  and  on  summer 

*  These  opinions  may  be  taken  as  broadly  representative  of  the  landed 
class  in  Attica,  many  of  them  the  descendants  of  the  old  Eiipatrids 
and  heirs  of  the  aristocratic  tradition.  Aristophanes  himself  often 
voiced  their  feeling. 

*  This  Thukydides,  who  must  be  distinguished  from  the  historian 
of  thai:  name,  represented  the  old  oligarchical  faction  who  opposed 
Perikles"  Imperial  policy  and  favoured  alliance  with  Sparta. 

B 


*  * 


i8 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


AN  ATTIC  FARM 


19 


nights  for  the  slaves.  In  the  centre  of  the  court 
stood  an  altar  of  charred  turfs,  and  near  to  it,  a 
stock  of  wood,  carved  at  its  upper  end  with  a  crude 
likeness  of  a  human  head,  round  which  at  festal 
seasons  was  hung  a  garland.  The  house  itself  (which, 
like  the  yard-wall,  was  built  of  mud)  contained  one 
roomy  hall  behind  which,  out  of  sight,  lay  the 
women's  quarter.  The  hall  or  living-room  was 
scantily  furnished.  In  the  centre  four  stout  pillars, 
grouped  round  the  hearthstone,  supported  the  flat 
timber  roof;  on  the  pillars  hung  the  pots  and  pans  for 
cooking  and  the  master's  leathern  shield.  Half  a 
dozen  couches  were  ranged  along  the  walls,  together 
with  a  pile  of  sheepskin  rugs,  a  chest  or  two,  and  in 
one  corner  a  row  of  shapely  oil-jars.  As  the  room  was 
without  windows,  the  only  Hght  came  through  the 
smoke-hole  in  the  roof,  and  through  the  door.  But 
sunshine  seldom  penetrated  there,  even  in  summer  ; 
for  the  doorway  was  covered  by  a  loggia-porch,  over 
which  spread  the  leafy  branches  of  a  rambling  vine.^ 
Demokrates  had  no  children,  but  his  wife  was 
still  alive,  though  now  too  old  to  do  much  else  but 
sit  by  the  doorstep  spinning.  If  she  ever  went 
beyond  the  courtyard  gate,  it  was  because  her  stores 
of  herbs  and  simples  needed  to  be  replenished,  other- 
wise she  stayed  contentedly  at  home  and  supervised 
the  work  of  the  female  slaves.  The  control  of  the 
men  was  the  master's  business,  but  in  this  he  was 
assisted  by  the  services  of  a  faithful  steward  or 
baihff.  This  was  a  man  called  Sakas,  who  had  been 
in  the  farmer's  service  for  more  than  forty  years. 

1  It  seems  almost  certain  that  the  old  type  of  the  Homeric  house 
survived  in  the  country  long  after  the  Greeks  had  evolved  the  new  type, 
in  which  the  court  was,  as  it  were,  turned  inwards  and  set  in  the  centre 
of  the  house. 


Altliough  his  hoard  of  savings  was  enough  to  buy 
him  his  liberty,  Sakas  had  preferred  to  remain  on 
the  farm  as  a  slave.  Indeed,  Demokrates  could 
ill  have  spared  him ;  he  would  sooner  (so  he  used 
to  say)  have  parted  with  a  nine-years'  ox.  The  man 
was,  in  all  respects,  a  model  bailiff,  and  (what  was 
most  valued)  he  had  the  trick  of  planting  olives 
better  than  any  man  in  Phlya.  His  one  great 
weakness  was  an  exaggerated  superstition.  He 
had  unbounded  belief  in  the  power  of  omens  and 
charms  and  magic,  his  life  was  burdened  by  a  con- 
stant terror  of  the  '  evil  eye,'  which  he  studied  to 
avert  by  wearing  a  large  bunch  of  amulets  about  his 
neck.  He  was  also  particularly  observant  of  the 
movements  of  animals  and  the  flight  of  birds, 
trembling  at  the  sight  of  a  raven,  and  even  abandon- 
ing an  important  journey  if  a  weasel  so  much  as 
crossed  his  path.  Often  these  superstitions  of  his 
were  something  of  a  bar  to  good  husbandry,  for 
there  was  not  a  day  in  the  calendar  but  was  (for  good 
or  ill)  coloured  by  some  potent  and  mysterious  in- 
fluence. During  the  last  quarter  of  the  moon,  for 
instance,  one  must  on  no  account  plant  seed. 
Reaping  had  always  to  be  begun  on  the  twelfth  of 
the  month ;  at  a  pinch  he  might  be  brought  to 
countenance  the  nineteenth  evening;  for  then,  by 
some  inexplicable  accident,  conditions  improved  as 
the  day  wore  on.  These  fanciful  ideas  he  was 
thought,  in  part  at  least,  to  have  brought  with  him 
from  his  home  in  Thessaly,^  whence  as  a  boy  he  had 

'  They  were  current  there  in  Hesiod's  time  at  any  ratej  and  there  it 
no  reason  to  suppose  that  they  were  more  short-lived  than  other  rural 
superstitions.  Compare  the  notion  which  prevails  in  some  parts  of 
England  that  it  is  lucky  to  plant  seeds  on  Good  Friday. 


20 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


been  kidnapped  and  shipped  to  the  slave-market 
at  Athens.  With  Alkibiades,  Sakas  was  a  special 
favourite.  The  boy  took  a  great  delight  in  crossing 
the  bailiiPs  foibles — besides,  nobody  understood  as 
well  as  he  did  the  training  of  dogs  or  how  to 
lime  a  twig  for  birds.  The  old  man,  so  far  from 
resenting  the  boy's  pranks,  was  devoted  to  the 
young  master  (so  he  chose  to  call  him)  and  seldom 
failed  to  find  some  trifling  present  for  him  when 
he  came  to  Phlya,  at  one  time  a  stick  cut  with 
curious  patterns,  at  another  a  tame  quail  or  a 
linnet. 

Alkibiades  had  the  run  of  the  farm,  where  he 
could  find  amusement  at  all  times  and  seasons, 
riding  in  a  wagon,  snaring  a  bird  or  watching  the 
labourers  at  their  work.  Whenever  city  Hfe  seemed 
stale  and  monotonous,  he  was  sure  to  meet  with 
some  novel  experience  out  in  the  country.  Once, 
in  early  autumn,  he  had  played  truant  from  school 
and  gone  to  Phlya  to  see  the  vintage  gathered. 
Away  from  the  town  and  in  the  freedom  of  the 
fields,  it  was  easy  to  forget  he  was  a  fine  young 
gentleman,  and  he  had  mixed  freely  with  the 
slaves,  lending  a  hand  with  the  heavy  basket-loads 
of  purple  clusters,  and  even  taking  a  turn  in  the 
winepress  at  treading  out  the  grape  juice.  In  the 
evening,  when  all  was  over,  he  stayed  to  see  the 
peasants  celebrate  their  Harvest  Home.  The  boys 
had  been  busy  preparing  a  huge  wreath  of  olive 
sprigs  and  fruits  and  tufts  of  wool.  When  this  was 
ready,  they  carried  it  off  to  the  chapel  of  Apollo, 
to  ask  a  benediction.  Alkibiades  followed  the 
procession,  and  during  the  ceremony  he  caught 
a  glimpse  into  the  interior  of  the  shrine.     It  was 


AN  ATTIC  FARM 


21 


chock-full  of  offerings  hung  upon  the  walls,  old  rusted 
sickles,  faded  garlands,  sham  jewellery  and  terra-cotta 
dolls.  Among  all  this  trash  he  could  barely  at  first 
distinguish  the  sacred  image,  a  bright  painted  thing 
carved  out  of  wood.  When  he  saw  it,  it  seemed  so 
ugly  that  he  would  have  laughed  outright  if  it  had 
not  been  for  the  serious  faces  of  the  worshippers, 
who  approached  it  with  awestruck  veneration. 
When  the  priest  ^  had  finished  blessing  the  Harvest 
wreath,^  they  all  went  off  home  in  triumph  to  nail 
it  up  over  the  courtyard  gate,  chanting  all  the  way 
the  old  thanksgiving  song  : — 

Wreath  of  the  Harvest  Home 
Bringeth  prosperity. 
Figs,  cakes  and  honeycomb, 
Fruit  of  the  olive  tree. 
Wine  to  drink  deep,  O  1 
Drink  and  then  sleep,  O ! 

After  that,  there  was  feasting  in  the  cool  twilight, 
and  dancing  to  finish  the  day.  All  the  company 
linked  hands  and,  when  the  piper  struck  up,  began 
to  move  slowly  round  in  a  long  serpentine,  from 
which  one  pair  and  then  another  would  break  off 
and  dance  in  the  middle ;  sedately  at  first,  poising 
a  foot  in  air  and  swaying  the  body  backwards  with 
a  slow  methodical  rhythm  :  ^  but  as  night  advanced, 
torches  were  lit  and  more  wine  was  drunk  and  the 


*  The  priest  of  this  shrine  was  the  father  of  Euripides  the  poet. 

*  The  wreath  was  known  as  the  Eiresione.  The  procession  took 
place  in  June  according  to  Miss  Harrison,  but  I  follow  others  who  place 
it  in  October. 

'  This  description  is  based  upon  a  dance  seen  in  recent  years  at 
Athens.  Pose  seems  to  play  more  part  in  it  than  step,  and  this  must 
almost  certainly  have  been  true  of  classic  times, 


22 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


AN  ATTIC  FARM 


23 


scene  became  more  and  more  boisterous,  till  it  had 
ended  in  a  dance  called  the  Kikynna,  which  was  very- 
wild  indeed. 

When  Alkibiades   returned  to  Athens,   he  was 
punished  for  his  absence  and  forbidden  to  go  again 
to  Phlya  ;  but  this  did  not  hinder  him  from  paying 
an  occasional  visit  on  the  sly,  at  one  time  to  watch 
the  oxen  at  the  plough,  at  another  to  help  at  the 
olive  picking  in  late  autumn,  when  poor  city  folk 
came  out  in  great  hordes  to  lend  a  hand  in  return 
for  a  trifling  wage.     Above  all,  it  was  in  the  days  of 
early  summer,  when  the  corn  is  in  the  ear  and  the 
first  figs  begin  to  ripen,  that  school-time  seemed 
most  tedious  and  the  call  of  the  country  wellnigh 
irresistible.     It  was  therefore  the  more  provoking 
that  Ariphron,  his  fussy  guardian,  chose  this  par- 
ticular season  to  exert  once  more  his  authority.    The 
mild,   good-natured  half-breed  who  had   tutored 
him  from  childhood  was  dismissed,  and  his  place 
taken  by  a  more  strict  and  brutal  pedagogue.     The 
man's  chief  duty  was  each   morning   to   conduct 
his    charge    to    the    schoolroom    door    and    then 
wait  till  noon  to  take  him  home  again.     He  per- 
formed the    duty  with   the   vigilance   of   a    Ker- 
beros  :  there  was  no  longer  any  loitering  by  pastry 
stalls,  no  game  of  dice  at  street  corners ;    it  was 
not  even  permitted  to  return   home   by   way   of 
the    market-place.       By    degrees  the   tyranny   be- 
came intolerable,    till    one    day  when    Alkibiades 
issued  from  the  schoolroom  there  was   the   fellow 
asleep   at   his   post.     The    boy  slipped  past,   ran 
down  to  the  Dipylon  gate  and  was  soon  shaking  the 
dust  of  Athens   off  Ins  feet,  with  a  vow  never  to 
return. 


M 


It  was  not  far  to  Phlya,  and  he  was  soon  at  the 
farm.     He  found  Demokrates  out  in  the  harvest 
fields,  standing,  like  the  Hng  depicted  on  AchiUes'^ 
shield,  with  '  staff  in  hand,  and  silent  joy  at  heart. 
Two  reapers  were  at  work  plying  their  sickles  m 
the  standing  corn.     Others  followed  in  their  tracks, 
and  tied  up  the  swathes  in  sheaves.     By  and  by 
these  were  collected  and  carried  to  the  threshing- 
floor  among  the  olives,  where  they  were  spread  on  a 
broad  ring  of  beaten  earth.     A  pair  of  mild-eyed 
lumbering  oxen  were  led  to  the  floor  and  set  movmg 
round  and  round  over  the  scattered  sheaves.    A 
small  boy  followed  at  their  tail  to  regulate  their 
paces,  which  he  did  by  shrill  clucks  of  encourage- 
ment   and    vigorous    prods    from    a    goad.     Two 
women  were  busy  spreading  out  the  corn  under 
their  hooves  till  all  was  well  stamped  out.    Then 
the  beasts  having  been  led  aside,  and  the  straw 
removed,  a  man  stepped  into  the  middle  armed 
witli  an  instrument  like  a  gigantic  shovel  with  a 
wide  spreading  mouth;  this  he  waved  to  and  fro 
with  a  horizontal  motion  above  the  ground,  dex- 
terously fanning  away  the  chaff  to  the  edge  of  the 
floor.     Finally    the    grain    was    gathered    up    and 
carried  in  large  baskets  to  the   granary.      Mean, 
while  in  the  field  the  reapers  put  in  the  sicUe, 
the  binders  bound  the  sheaves,  and  soon  another 
batch  was  ready.      The  oxen    lumbered  up,    the 
boy  clucked  and  prodded  and  the  whole  process 

was  repeated. 

These  tasks  were  performed  with  a  servile  obedi- 
ence, but  without  energy  or  zest.  Even  when  from 
time  to  time  the  slaves  broke  into  a  song  (for  there 
seemed  to  be  a  song  appropriate  to  each  agricultural 


1; 


H 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


AN  ATTIC  FARM 


25 


occupation^),   there   was    about   their   singing,   as 
about  their  work,  a  listless  and  mechanical  mono- 
tony.    Unlike  the  town-bred  slave  who  is  alert  and 
cheerful,  these  men  have  been  dulled  by  incessant 
manual   labour,    sharing   their   drudgery   with   the 
oxen   and   becoming,   like   the   very   ohve   stumps, 
mere  creatures  of  the  soil.     The  same  soil,  however, 
which  gives  Hfe  and  vigour  to  the  olive  takes  the 
virtue  out  of  a  man,  turning  him  little  by  httle  to 
a  thing.     This  is  perhaps  why  Aristotle,  that    in- 
corrigible snob,  denied  that  any  one  who  spent  his 
hfe  in  such  labour  could  ever  be  called  a  full  man. 
It  must  not  be  thought,  however,  that  they  were 
downright  unhappy,  nor  that  Demokrates  was  a  hard 
master.     Indeed,  as  masters  went  he  was  indulgent, 
treating  them  fairly  and  without  brutaUty.     Many 
of  them  had  grown  up  under  his  eye,  born  and  bred 
on  the  estate.     No  slave  of  his  was  ever  turned 
adrift  in  old  age.     Some  even  preferred,  like  Sakas, 
to  forgo  their  Uberty.     Thus  even  captives,  they 
say,  are  reluctant  to  leave  their  very  chains  and 
prison  houses.     Nor  was  the  slave's  hfe  altogether 
without    private    interests    and    diversions.     Each 
was  allowed  a  trifling  pittance — the  reward  of  in- 
dustry and  good  behaviour— which  he  might  hoard 
or  spend  as  he  pleased.     Working  hours  were  long ; 
but  when  at  last  the  summer-day  was  over,  they 
were  free  to  amuse  themselves  with  a  game  or  a 
gossip  like  any  other  mortals.      Then  there  was  a 
sudden  transformation;  the  weary  harvesters  became 

>  As,  for  example,  the  song  of  the  Hand-mill  :— 

Grind,  mill,  grind,  round  and  round  ! 
So  Pittakos  his  subjects  ground. 
King  in  Mitylene  crown 'd. 


a  cheerful  group  of  noisy  gamblers,  eager  to  risk 
their  petty  earnings  at  the  Mora ;  ^  fists  whipped  out 
fast  and  furious ;  breathless  shouts  set  the  whole 
place  ringing,  with  '  Pente-Hex,'  '  Pente-Tettara,'  ^ 
as  they  rang  the  changes  on  the  numerals.  While 
the  slaves  were  thus  busied  with  their  game,  the 
master,  the  baiUflf,  and  Alkibiades  set  out  for  home, 
threading  their  way  under  the  olives. 

The  sun  had  gone  down  on  a  brazen,  cloudless 
sky,  as  he  had  done  every  day  for  four  months  past  : 
four  burning  months  with  never  a  drop  of  rain, 
and  with  none  to  come  for  perhaps  as  many  more. 
The  country  ached  with  drought,  and  welcomed, 
like  a  sick  man,  the  refreshing  interval  of  night. 
The  tired  dust-laden  trees  revived;  flowers  filled 
the  air  with  scents  unrecognised  under  the  heat  of 
A  luminous  enchanted  twilight  spread  under 


noon. 


the  olives,  as  the  western  sky  turned  swiftly  from 
gold  to  orange,  and  from  orange  to  blood-red,  and 
then  grew  pale  again.  The  shadows  crept  over  the 
plain  in  a  slow  tide  which  left  the  hills  like  islands 
still  bright  with  the  afterglow.  A  last  ray  Ut  up 
the  great  Temple  above  Athens.  For  a  moment 
some  golden  figure  on  the  roof  flashed,  and  then 
was  suddenly  extinguished.  Dusk  fell :  the  frogs 
began  their  croaking  down  by  the  river  :  an  owl 
hooted  ominously  in  the  tree-tops,  at  which  Sakas 
shuddered  and  spat  in  his  cloak.    Then  the  dogs 

»  The  Mora  is  still  popular  in  the  South.  It  is  played  as  follows : 
Two  men  confront  each  other  with  right  hands  behind  their  back. 
Each  determines  how  many  fingers  he  will  show,  and  then  both  whip 
out  their  hands  and  simultaneously  shout  a  number.  A  rapid  addition 
is  made  of  the  combined  number  of  fingers  shown  by  both.  If  either 
has  guessed  right,  he  wins  the  stakes. 

8  *  Five-Six,' '  Five-Four.' 


26 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


AN  ATTIC  FARM 


27 


of  the  farm  barked  and  the  three  came  to   the 
gate. 

The  old  housewife  was  there  to  welcome  them. 
She  had  prepared  a  simple  meal,  under  the  porch,  of 
barley  cakes,  dried  figs,  and  sour  stiff  curds.^  Her 
husband  brought  out  a  jar  of  last  year's  wine,  and 
mixing  it  with  water  offered  a  draught  to  Alkibiades, 
not,  however,  before  he  had  first  poured  a  few  drops 
into  the  cup  which  he  emptied  out  upon  the  floor.  ^ 
When  the  meal  was  over,  the  old  lady  went  on 
with  her  spinning,  and  Demokrates  began  to  talk, 
grumbling,  as  farmers  will,  over  the  trivial  annoy- 
ances of  rustic  hfe  ;  the  drought,  the  plague  of 
insects,  sickness  among  his  bees,  damage  done  in  his 
vineyard  by  a  neighbour's  goat,  a  quarrel  with  the 
same  vexatious  neighbour  over  a  boundary  stone 
and  the  unscrupulous  verdict  given  by  a  third  party, 
who  had  been  called  in  to  arbitrate. 

It  was  evident  that  this  last  incident  had  sorely 
hurt  his  pride,  for  he  must  needs  go  step  by  step 
through  the  whole  argument  for  the  benefit  of 
Alkibiades,  who,  when  it  was  over,  gave  a  sigh  of 
rehef  and  asked  for  a  story.  Demokrates  was  never 
reluctant  to  enlarge  upon  the  adventures  of  his 
youth,  the  days  when  he  had  gone  campaigning  in 
the  far-off  east,  and  he  began  to  tell  of  Kypros  and 
of  the  mainland  beyond,  where  men  dwelt  in  the 
midst  of  limitless  deserts,  in  cities  of  fabulous 
wealth,  and  where  human  victims  were  sacrificed 
in  ivory  temples  to  the  images  of  beasts.     Then  he 

*  This  sort  of  junket  or  *  sour  milk '  is  still  popular  in  Greece.  It  is 
called  jaorti. 

*  The  pouring  of  a  libation  before  drinking,  which  survives  in  our 
grace  before  meat,  is  a  custom  which  may  still  be  met  with  in  central 
Italy. 


went  on  to  tell  (it  was  his  favourite  tale)  of  a  raid 
upon  the  Lykian  coast,  how  they  had  landed  in  a 
bay  where  no  trees  grew,  and  how,  finding  no  leaves 
to  make  themselves  garlands,  the  men  had  sat  down 
to  a  banquet  with  wisps  of  straw  around  their  heads. 
He  was  in  the  middle  of  describing  the  enemy  they 
there  encountered,  and  the  battle  which  they 
fought  in  the  defiles,  when  suddenly  he  stopped. 
*  This  is  the  day,'  he  said,  '  yet  I  had  forgotten ; 
there  are  spirits  that  caU.'  With  that  he  went 
out  into  the  court  where  the  altar  stood,  and  long 
after  Alkibiades  had  fallen  asleep  on  his  straw  pallet, 
the  old  man  might  have  been  heard  mumbling 
prayers  and  incantations  in  the  darkness. 


I 


ni 


1} 


A  GYMNASIUM 

Sokrates,  seated  under  the  colonnade,  converses  with  two 
boys  ;  the  slave  attendant  sits  in  an  ill-bred  fashion  on  the 
ground  ;  near  him  lie  an  oil-flask  and  scraper. 

In  the  court  are  youths  racing,  quoit-throwing  and 
wrestling.  The  trainer  stands  by,  with  his  official  forked 
staff  in  hand. 


< 

> 

< 


«! 


III.  EPHEBES 

Health  is  best  of  blessings  far ; 

Next  Manly  Grace  and  Beauty  are  ; 

The  third  is  Riches  without  reproof)  cv     ,u 

And  the  fourth  to  be  Young  with  the  playmates  of  Youth. 

•""  (Greek  Antholooy.) 

'  Thfre  is  education  and  education,'  as  Plato  once 
had  occasion  to  remark ;    that  sort  which  makes  a 
good  shopkeeper  or  a  good  ship's  captam  does  not 
by  any  means  make  a  man.     Education  m  this  mean 
and  narrow  sense,  the  Greeks,  with  Plato,  heartily 
despised.     They  set  more  store  by  the  truer  type 
which  trains  a  man  '  in  aU  a  man's  quahties,  setting 
him  in  pursuit  of  the  high  ideal  of  perfect  citizen- 
ship, and  teaching  him  to  rule  and  to  obey.      If 
then,  at  his  eighteenth  year,  an  Athenian  ceased  to 
be  a  boy,  his  education  was  far  from  finished,  for  it 
ended  only  with  his  life-a  Ufe  given  in  constant 
suit  and  service  to  his  sovereign  lady  the  State. 
Upon  the  active  duties  of  that  Ufe  he  now  at  eighteen 
was  definitely  embarked.     Now  it  was  that,  upon 
due  satisfaction  being  given  (in  his  own  parish  haU 
first,  and  then  before  five  hundred  solemn  coun- 
cillors at  Athens)  concerning  his  birth,  parentage 
and  bodily  fitness,  he  was  permitted  to  inscribe  his 
name  upon  the  Civic  Register.     True,  when  quite 
a  child,  his  father  had  enroUed  him  as  a  member 
of  his  Brotherhood  with  much  old-fashioned  cere- 
mony and  great  consumption  of  sausage-meat.     1  hat 
was  at  the  feast  of  the  Apaturia  or  All  Kmdreds 


30  THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

Day.  But  it  had  been  purely  a  matter,  as  we  might 
say,  of  the  Church,  and  had  nothing  whatever  to 
do  with  the  State.  That  exacting  mistress,  now 
that  her  child  was  a  full-fledged  citizen,  took  him 
formally  under  her  wing,  requiring  first  that  before 
he  could  enjoy  the  privilege  of  registering  a  vote 
or  even  of  paying  a  tax,  he  should  serve  two  full 
years  in  a  special  mUitary  corps.  He  became,  in  a 
word,  one  of  the  Epheboi. 

Of  this  event  the  outward  and  visible  sign  was 
the  cropping  of  his  hair  (though  that  had,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  taken  place  some  time  beforehand), 
and,  secondly,  the  wearing  of  a  uniform.     This, 
Me  Greek  clothes  in  general,  was  of  a  simple  sort. 
Little  boys  and  full-grown  men  wore  as  a  rule  two 
garments— first,  a   short   chiton,  which   resembled 
nothing  so  much  as  the  shirt  described  by  Falstaff 
as  '  two  napkins  tacked  together  and  thrown  over 
the  shoulders,  Hke  a  herald's  coat  without  sleeves.'  i 
The  second  garment  was  a  rough  plaid  or  cloak, 
which  could  be  made  to  envelop  the  whole  figure 
or  could  be  slung  loosely  round  one  shoulder  leaving 
half  the  body  exposed.     Now,  between  the  ages  of 
eighteen  and  twenty,  the  ephebes  substituted  for  the 
voluminous  cloak  a  short  dun-coloured  riding  cape, 
whose  ends  hung  down  in  a  point  before  and  behind,' 
leaving  the  spear  arm  free.     Besides  this  he  wore  a 

broad-brimmed  felt  hat,  usually  slung  at  the  nape  of 
his  neck.2  ^ 

»  The  difFerence  was  that  the  Greek  shirt  was  a  single  napkin  doubled 
round  the  body  and  caught  in  by  a  band  at  the  waist. 

When  this  hat  was  worn   by  a  character  in  a  Greek   play   at 
Cambndge,  every  one  was  irresistibly  reminded  of  the  modem  boy  scout 
p!.rT^^  ^ays  there  is  some  similarity  between  the  two  institutions.* 
For  the  dress  of  an  Ephcbc  see  the  reproduction  of  a  Greek  vase  on  the 
cover  or  this  book. 


EPHEBES 


31 


Thus  arrayed,  he  was  taken  up  the  stairs  at  the 
northern  foot  of  the  Akropolis  rock,  near  to  that 
cleft  by  which  the  Persians  had  once  made  their 
way  up  the  cliff  side ;  there,  in  the  sanctuary  of 
Aglauros,  he  took  the  following  oath :  '  I  will  not 
disgrace  my  Sacred  Weapons  nor  desert  the  Comrade 
who  is  placed  at  my  side.  I  will  fight  for  things  holy 
and  things  profane  whether  I  am  alone  or  with 
others.  I  will  hand  on  my  Fatherland  greater  and 
better  than  I  found  it.  I  will  hearken  to  the 
Magistrates  and  obey  the  existing  Laws  and  those 
hereafter  established  by  the  people.  I  will  not 
consent  unto  any  that  destroys  or  disobeys  the 
Constitution,  but  prevent  him  whether  I  am  alone 
or  with  others.  I  will  honour  the  Temples  and  the 
Religion  which  my  forefathers  established.  So 
help  me  Aglauros,  Enyalios,  Ares,  Zeus,  Thallo, 
Auxo.»  Hegemone.' 

It  was  all  very  solemn  ;  and  no  doubt  the  young 
ephebe  felt  vastly  important.  That  sense  of  im- 
portance probably  wore  off  at  the  barracks,  to 
which  he  was  now  consigned,  at  the  edge  of  the 
Great  Harbour.  The  unfamiliar  discipline,  the 
mess  dinners  (at  the  cost  of  4  obols  per  head  ^),  the 
drudgery  of  drill  in  full  armour,  all  this  was  a  new 
experience.  The  drill  masters  were  strict,  and  we 
hear  of  '  beatings  with  rods  and  ills  innumerable.' 
If  one  of  them,  Pythodones,  won  the  gratitude  of 
the  people  of  Aixone  through  the  splendid  order  he 
kept,  the  ephebes  of  the  Kekropid  tribe  no  doubt 
had  a  different  tale  to  tell.     I  could  wish  they  had 

*  The  Attic  drachma  (equivalent  in  weight  to  the  modem  franc, 
though  of  course  possessing  superior  purchasing  power)  was  divided 
into  6  obols. 


1 


*l 


32  THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

inscribed  it  on  the  reverse  side  of  that  complimen- 
tary piUar  which  the  citizens  set  there  in  his  honour. 
Not  that  there  was,  however,  any  scarcity  of  re- 
laxation. At  night  it  would  be  the  after-dinner 
game  of  Kottabos  that  turned  all  Athens  crazy 
over  flippmg  wine  dregs  at  a  mark.  By  day  they 
had  their  pets,  their  dogs  and  tame  quails  and  fight- 
ing cocks.  They  would  play  at  simple  games ;  one 
was  called  Day  or  Night.  A  tile  blackened  under- 
neath was  thrown  into  the  air  :  if  it  fell  black  side 
uppermost,  one  party  cried  '  Night '  and  ran  to 
their  Home ' ;  if  it  fell  otherwise  it  was  the  turn 
of  their  opponents  to  fly.^ 

There  were  many  other  sports  and  competitions 
besides   the   ordinary  programme   of  the   training 
ground.     The  rich  were  told  off  to  ride,  and  learnt 
how  to  sit  a   mettlesome  charger  bareback,2  and 
how  to  vault  on  to  its  back  without  wounding  the 
animal  with  the  spur  (they  wore  but  one).     Com- 
petitions in  swimming  and  rowing  were  held  in  the 
bay.     But   the  great   event   of  the  year  was   the 
1  orch  races  :   some  of  these  were  run  singly,  some 
by  teams  who  carried  on  the  torch  by  relays.     For 
these  vigorous  training  was  undergone.    When  some 
fat  feUow  waddled  in  half  a  furlong  behind  the  rest, 
puffing  up  his  torch  to  keep  it  aHght,  he  got  jeers  and 
slaps  from  the  crowd  at  the  Dipylon  gate,  and  a 
bad  name  among  his  messmates  into  the  bargain 

XenllL^inl^I.  considered  riding  a  very  difficult   accomplishment. 
Xenophon  in  a  striking  passage  remarks  upon  the  disadvantages  which 

o??h?P  Jk  ^^'"'S  ^"  u"S  \  *»°PJi'^  "Pon  terra  firma.     Yet  the  riden 
of  the  Parthenon  Fneze  have  irreproachable  seats. 


EPHEBES 


33 


There  was  all  the  banter  and  nide  wit  and  good 
humour  that  there  is  in  a  public  school.  Such 
nicknames  as  Ape,  Bat,  and  Monkey  followed  their 
owners  even  into  after  Ufe.  There  was,  in  short, 
a  great  spirit  of  camaraderie.  Clubs  were  formed 
with  fancy  names  such  as  the  Sons  of  Herakles. 
Alkibiades  founded  one  of  these  we  may  be  sure, 
calling  them  perhaps  the  *  Wolf-foots  '  after  those 
outlawed  ancestors  of  his  own.^  Such  clubs,  like 
those  of  the  boys  of  a  modern  school,  outlived  these 
two  short  years ;  and  festive  reunions  took  place 
long  afterwards.  There  grew  up  great  friendships 
too,  less  historic  perhaps  than  those  of  the  Sacred 
Band  at  Thebes,  but  not  for  that  the  less  real ;  these 
were  smiled  upon  by  the  authorities,  and  the  friends 
were  free  to  go  off  on  days  of  leave  to  hunt  the  hare 
on  Hymettos  or  visit  some  old  retainer  in  his  farm 
under  the  mountain.  At  other  times  they  would 
clamber  round  the  *  rocky  brow  that  looks  on  sea- 
born Salamis,'  spearing  cuttles  off  the  rocks  or 
swimming  out  to  Psyttalea  for  a  bet,  and  finally 
climbing  the  hill  to  lie  down  among  the  cyclamen 
and  anemones  and  watch  through  the  pine  branches 
the  sun  burning  in  the  clear  blue  sky,  till  Salamis 
belov/  them  shimmered  in  the  heat,  one  of  the  party 
piping  the  while  old  songs  of  war  or  new  songs  of 
love,  and  near  by  a  cicada  chirping  in  concert  from 
a  thorn. 

There  may  yet  arise  a  master  to  paint  for  us  the 
'  sunlit  air '  in  which  Perikles  *  delicately  trod,'  or 
the  blue  in  which  Phormio  cruised,  but  the  artist 
that  could  paint  the  Athenian  boy  as  he  was,  the 

*  The  Alkmeonids,  being  exiled  in  early  days,  formed  themselves 
into  a  guerilla  band  under  this  title. 


34 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


sculpture  of  his  proud  face,  the  keen  thoughtful  eye, 
and  the  free  grace  of  sunburnt  limbs — ^he  is  dead 
and  buried  long  centuries  ago.  That  glory  has 
departed  from  the  earth,  and  the  only  memorial 
that  has  been  left  behind  of  it  is  in  the  outhnes 
drawn  by  forgotten  hands  on  the  surface  of  a  few 
shattered  pots. 

With  the  end  of  the  first  year,  this  playing  at 
soldiers  with  its  various  pleasures  and  hardships 
came  to  an  end.  There  was  a  great  review  held 
in  the  Theatre — thirty  thousand  eyes  focused  upon 
them  from  the  huge  hollow  semicircle — and  at  the 
end  of  the  review  each  ephebe  received  a  shield  and 
a  spear  from  the  State  :  his  shield  and  his  spear 
for  life  or  for  death — and  for  the  proud  possessors 
reahties  had  at  last  begun.  They  were  divided 
according  to  their  tribes,  and  sent  out  as  *  patrols  ' 
from  end  to  end  of  Attica  :  it  was  their  duty  to 
garrison  frontier  forts  and  outposts.  They  were 
frequently  moved  from  place  to  place  that  they 
might  acquire  a  good  experience  of  their  native 
hills.  Campaigns  might  often  turn  on  the  know- 
ledge of  a  mountain  track,  as  the  victors  of  Pylos 
knew.  They  were  posted  for  months  together  in 
those  old  grey  watch-towers  overlooking  theMegarid. 
Life  up  on  the  bleak  ridges  was  often  stern — when 
the  snow  was  falling  up  among  the  pines  at  Phyle, 
and  one  must  go  with  one  foot  bare  to  get  a  grip 
in  the  slush.  Time  hung  heavy ;  a  few  old  charcoal- 
burners  were  all  the  society  they  knew.  Even  these 
could  spin  a  good  yarn  of  old  campaigns  round  the 
fire,  and  the  young  men  would  pray  fervently  that 
their  own  chance  might  come  with  the  summer. 

The  only  diversion  that  came  their  way  was  an 


EPHEBES 


35 


occasional  man-hunt.  Some  slave  would  murder 
his  master  and  make  off  with  the  valuables  of  the 
farm ;  or  some  vagabond  treason-monger  would 
find  Athens  too  hot  for  him  and  take  to  the  hills 
with  a  price  on  his  head.  Then  since  the  '  patrols  * 
were  also  the  police  of  Attica,  there  would  be  a 
leisurely  pursuit,  picnics  by  the  roadside  and  eager 
speculations  about  some  figure  on  the  skyline.  It 
was  perhaps  a  relief  when  he  was  discovered  to  be  a 
shepherd  after  all. 

Rare  visits  to  the  capital  occurred,  generally  for 
special  festivals  in  which  the  ephebes  were  given  a 
leading  role  to  play.  They  escorted  the  mystery- 
march  to  Eleusis ;  and  they  were  prominent  in  the 
great  procession  at  the  Panathenaea.  It  was  thought 
that  by  these  '  Church  parades '  the  instincts  of 
patriotism  and  religion  were  fostered  and  combined. 

Finally,  though  this  was  rare,  they  might  be  called 
upon  active  service  outside  Attica.  As  when 
Demosthenes  was  planning  one  of  his  character- 
istically venturesome  raids  on  Megara,  he  embarked 
somie  ephebe-patrols  along  with  a  few  light-armed 
Plataeans,  and  stealing  across  the  bay  of  Eleusis 
concealed  them  near  to  a  temple  of  Ares — over 
against  the  gates  of  the  city.  These  gates  com- 
manded the  entrance  to  the  Long  Walls  that  joined 
Megara  to  its  port.  Some  Megarian  citizens,  who 
were  in  the  plot,  had  for  some  time  made  a  nightly 
habit  of  going  out  upon  what — ^with  the  benign 
and  unsuspecting  approval  of  the  town  authorities — 
they  gave  out  to  be  privateering  expeditions.  On 
the  particular  night  when  Demosthenes  and  his 
ephebes  arrived,  they  were  bringing  back  their  boat 
up  the  fosse  (for  they  kept  it  within  the  walls), 


36 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


and  when  the  gates  were  opened  to  receive  them,  and 
the  ephebes  at  that  very  instant  charged  down  upon 
the  gates — they  contrived  to  get  the  boat  most 
conveniently  jammed  half  in  and  half  out.  The 
result  was  that  the  Athenian  ephebes  captured 
the  walls.  Of  the  final  issue  of  the  matter,  in  what 
perplexity  the  Megarians  were  next  morning,  and 
how  the  ingenious  '  privateering '  party  made  them- 
selves oily  all  over  that  their  Athenian  friends,  should 
they  capture  the  city,  might  not  mistake  their 
identity,  all  this  can  be  read  in  the  history  of 
Thukydides — but  with  the  ephebes  it  has  little 
concern,  and  with  Alkibiades  still  less  ;  for  long 
before  this  his  two  years  of  probation  were  over,  he 
had  grown  his  beard  and  passed  into  the  ranks  of 
the  citizen  army. 


DELPHI 

In  the  foreground  is  the  Sacred  Close  and  the  great 
Temple  of  Apollo. 

The  cliffs  rise  upon  the  left,  and  the  great  chasm  down 
which  flows  the  Kastalian  Spring.  Mt.  Parnassos  is  hidden 
by  the  cliffs.  Up  the  valley  runs  the  road  to  the  interior 
by  which  Oedipus  came  to  Delphi. 


' 


DELPHI 


39 


IV.  DELPHI 

Thus  then  will  God  to  wise  men  riddling  show 
Such  hidden  lore  as  not  the  wise  can  know  j 
Fools  in  a  moment  deem  his  meaning  plain. 
His  lessons  lightly  learn,  and  learn  in  vain. 

SOPHOKLES. 

(Translation  by  F.  W.  H.  Myers.) 

The  dogs  which  the  shepherds  breed  among  the  wild 
hills  of  Phokis  have  at  all  times  been  a  Uvely  terror 
to  the  traveller.^  Savage  and  hungry  as  the  very 
wolves,  they  never  fail  to  scent  a  stranger  across 
the  whole  width  of  a  valley,  nor  to  entertain  withal 
an  amiable  fancy  to  devour  him  raw.  There  was 
small  likelihood,  therefore,  that  a  soKtary  Athenian 
traveller,  adventuring  himself  on  the  hills  below 
Delphi  about  the  fall  of  dusk,  would  escape  from 
their  attack.  No  prey  could  be  more  inviting  than 
such  a  stranger,  plump,  tender  and  white-skinned. 
That  stranger  he  was,  there  could  be  no  shadow 
of  doubt,  for  he  wore  the  traveller's  cloak  and 
high  strapped  boots,  and  the  broad-brimmed  hat 
of  felt  such  as  pilgrims  wear  in  mediaeval  pictures. 
But  perhaps  it  was  his  air  of  complacent  Attic 
urbanity  that  most  betrayed  him,  a  complacency 
destined  to  be  rudely  shocked  when  at  a  turn  of  the 
track  three  monsters  at  once  came  at  him  with  a 
murderous  rush. 

Poor    fellow,    everything    seemed    against    him. 

>  'Man  kann  gelegentlich  durch  die  Hiinde  der   Hirten  etwas  in 
Verlegenhcit  kommen.'— Baedeker's  Griechenland, 
88 


I    \ 


\ 


Clearly  it  was  not,  after  all,  Apollo's  wish  that  he 
should  ever  set  foot  in  Delphi.     Such  an  Odyssey  of 
misadventures  had  beset  him  since  he  left  Peiraieus. 
At  Corinth  in  some  thievish  den  he  had  been  robbed 
of  half  his  ready  cash.^     But  he  pressed  on  notwith- 
standing, and  all  that  day  he  had  sat  in  the  stern 
of   a    Sicilian   trader,   watching   the   interminable 
nakedness   of   the   grey   shores   and  the   snows   of 
Parnassos  mocking  him  from  the  distant  clouds,  and 
more  than  once  he  had  wished  himself  at  home  again. 
At  the  port  of  Krisa  where  pilgrims  for  Delphi 
disembark,  his  slave  had  insulted  the  collector  of 
tolls  and  had  been  clapped  in  the  stocks.     So  that 
he  himself  was  left  alone  to  the  tender  mercies  of 
the  muleteers  that  drive  the  hardest  of  bargains 
and  the  stubbornest  of  beasts.     Sixteen  tedious  fur- 
longs covered  on  mule  back  threading  through  the 
olive  yards  of  the  plain;    then  level  ground  had 
ended,  and  the  ascent  up  the  foot-hills  of  Parnassos 
began.     His  guide  turned  him  out  of  the  saddle — 
and  he  was  left  to  follow  on  foot  as  best  he  could  : 
this  was  ill  enough,  and  presently  he  lost  sight  of 
both  mule  and  driver  round  a  bend  of  the  road. 
Here  was  a  sad  plight  for  a  man  who  in  Athens,  if 
he  took  a  walk,  had  a  slave  at  his  heels  with  a  fold- 
ing stool.     TwiHght  was  falling ;    the  track  grew 
steeper  and  wilder.     He  thought  with  a  qualm  how 
guides  had  before  now  been  leagued  with  bandits. 
As  such  vague  terrors  grew,  his  superstitious  fancy 
began  to  conjure  out  of  the  darkness  all  the  fearful 
hobgoblins    of   fable   and  beUef,   Will-o'-the-wisp 
Empusas,  fiends  with  snaky  locks,  dead  men's  spirits 

5  The  wealthy  and  vicious  town  of  Corinth  was  a  notorious  haunt 
of  thieves. 


40 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


DELPHI 


41 


that  called  for  blood,  and  all  the  pale  horrors  of  the 
under-world — Charon  and  his  ferry,  Kokytos  and 
Styx.  And  now  on  a  sudden  at  his  back  came  a 
threefold  barking  as  of  Kerberos  himself. 

Face  to  face  with  his  triple  foe,  with  nothing  in 
his  hands  but  a  staff  and  a  large  parasol,  he  was  in 
a  helpless  plight.     Were  he  to  sit  down  and  feign 
death,  as  did  Odysseus  in  a  similar  predicament, 
there  was  no  Eumaios  at  hand  for  the  rescue.     Yet 
sons  of  Kekrops  have  a  ready  wit  :   it  was  not  for 
nothing  that  he  had  fought  and  run  at  Koronea. 
He  faced  promptly  about,  shouted  a  war-cry,  waved 
his  staff  like  a  brandished  spear  and  lowered  his 
parasol  shield-wise  full  in  the  enemy's  face.     Then 
slowly  he  began  to  beat  a  cautious  retreat  back 
foremost  up  the  road.     With  a  howl  the  bafHed 
enemy  fled,  leaving  the  traveller  to  pursue  his  way 
unmolested.     Just  here  the  lonely  track  climbed 
round  the  shoulder  of  the  hill.     As  he  looked  back 
he  could  see  far  below  him  the  shining  waters  of  the 
creek  and  lights  of  the  httle  port.     Then  as  he 
turned  again  to  round  the  shoulder  of  the  hill, 
he  felt  on  his  cheeks  a  breath  of  mountain  snows, 
and  the  moment  after  a  great  sight  opened  to  his 
wondering  gaze.     Directly  ahead  of  him  and  over- 
whelming in  their  black  mass,  a  sheer  wall  of  cliffs 
shut  out  the  sky.     From  the  cliff's  base  a  rocky 
slope  fell  sharp  away,  till  its  roots  were  lost  to  view 
in  the  remote  blackness  of  a  wooded  gorge  below. 
Upon  this  slope  lay  that  which  made  him  pause. 
For,  climbing  steeply  up  it,  tier  upon  tier,  terrace 
upon  terrace,  rose  a  mass  of  low  buildings,  very  white 
under  the  rising  moon,  and  out  of  the  centre  of  these 
loomed  the  monster  pillars  of  a  temple.     Phoebos 


f 


Apollo  was  still,  it  seems,  at  hand  to  save  his  votary 
in  hour  of  need.  And  never  did  pilgrim  offer  him 
a  more  grateful  prayer.  Yet  more  cheering  still  to 
the  traveller's  ear  was  the  murmur  of  human  voices, 
the  friendly  rattle  of  the  bolts  as  they  unbarred  the 
Hostel  door.     And  he  entered  for  the  night. 

When  next  he  emerged,  it  was  to  see  the  Sacred 
Close  under  a  full  blaze  of  morning  sun.     Picture  a 
broad  paved  way  running  steeply  aslant  the  slope, 
line  it  with  buildings,  in  style  of  a  uniform  severity, 
in  detail  of  infinite  variety,  shrines  of  regal  offerings, 
treasure-houses  of  cities  across  the  sea,  shelters  for 
pilgrims  from  the  four  ends  of  heaven  ;  people  well 
each  alcove  and  colonnade  with  Princes  wrought  in 
stone  and  Pugilists  of  bronze.     On  the  roof  corners 
above  set  carved  palmettes  or  floating  '  Victories,' 
and  under  the  gables,  marble  conflicts  of  heroic 
forms.     Trace  meanders  of  purple  and  azure  to  out- 
line and  emphasise  each  moulding,  hang  ornaments 
of  brass  and  silver  to  decorate  the  spaces,  and  over  the 
whole  scene,  if  you  would  grasp  it  well,  let  there  be 
thrown  a  burning  sunlight,  that  makes  the  marbles 
glitter  like  crystals   and  sets   the  gilded  victories 
flaming  up  towards  heaven.     You  may  close  your 
eyes  on  the  dazzling  street,  but  the  image  of  it  seems 
to  burn  still  behind  the  very  eyelids,  clear  cut  and 
fresh  as  the  outline  of  sunlit  snows  against  the  blue 
of  a  Southern  sky.     And  such  is  the  vision  of  the 
Sacred  Way  at  Delphi. 

Overhead  are  the  cliffs  hiding  from  sight  the  snow- 
fields  of  Parnassos ;  below,  the  stiU  vaUey  sleeps  m 
the  sun ;  there  is  no  wind  to  ruffle  the  olives,  but 
all  around  the  air  stirs  with  small  sounds  in  the  grass 
and  the  busy  murmur  of  far  waters. 


42  THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

A  hundred  yards  up  the  slope  the  Sacred  Way 
bends  at  a  sharp  angle,  and  immediately  above  it 
rises  Apollo's  Temple:  at  this  bend  our  pUgrim 
lingered  before  a  shrine  to  pray :  and  now  it  is  high 
time  we  discovered  who  the  man  is  and  what  business 
brings  him  to  Delphi.  To  that  question  the  Hostel 
priest  could  perhaps  supply  some  answer  :  or  was  it 
from  pure  politeness  that  he  was  careful  to  mix  the 
drinks  at  supper  with  his  own  hand  ?  And  did  he 
pry  upstairs  at  midnight  simply  to  see  that  his  euests 
slept  sound  ? 

Alkibiades,  when  his  father  fell  at  Koronea,  became 
the  ward  of  two  guardians :    one  was  his  uncle 
rerikles,  and  Ariphron  was  the  name  of  the  other. 
It  was  this  Ariphron  who  now  stood  at  the  bend  of 
the    Sacred    Way.     Between    them    the    guardians 
had  a  charge  of  some  difficulty  to  perform  :    and 
the  mission  which  had  brought  the  one  of  them  to 
Delphi  concerned  their  ward's  career.     The  prob- 
lem what  to  do  with  boys  is  about  as  modern  as 
man,  it  is  certainly  as  old  as  Greece.     For  a  Greek 
the  choice  was,  it  is  true,  somewhat  circumscribed. 
Mihtary  service,  for  instance,  was  more  of  an  inter- 
lude in  his  career  than  a  career  in  itself.     PoHtics 
was  every  man's  pastime  and  no  man's  profession 
—indeed,  for  that  matter,  if  a  man  wished  to  cut  a 
popular  figure  on  the  Bema,  he  might  well  be  en- 
gaged in  some  such  lowly  trade  as  leather-work  and 
stiU  be  in  the  fashion.^     For  all  this  Alkibiades  had  a 
wide  choice  before  him  ;  he  might  turn  merchant  or 
manufacturer,  he  might  be  'prenticed  to  a  physician 
or  an  artist.     Priesthoods  were  in  the  main  heredi- 
tary :  but  in  Alkibiades'  case  (one  trembles  for  those 

»  Klcon,  for  instance,  was  a  leather-worker  and  a  popular  demagogue. 


DELPHI 


43 


august  bodies)  family  influence  was  strong.  He 
might  even  be  trained  professionally  to  run  or  box. 
The  parents  of  one  famous  writer,  in  reliance  on  an 
oracular  response,  did  actually  train  their^  son  for 
the  foot-race ;  but,  as  the  event  showed  his  genius 
not  to  lie  in  his  feet,  the  victories  of  which  the 
prophet  spoke  must  have  been  the  triumphs  of  the 
pen.  So  Ariphron  being  in  doubt,  like  this  innocent 
couple,  concerning  his  ward's  future,  had  like  them 
thought  it  best  to  withhold  his  judgment  till  he  knew 
what  Delphi  had  to  say. 

There  seems  no  stranger  business  in  the  ancient 
world  than  this  innocent  and  firm  belief  in  oracles. 
Why  in  that  age  of  growing  scepticism  could  a  man 
not  be  content  to  forgo  a  visit  to  Delphi  or  Dodona, 
and  simply  spin  with  a   drachma  piece  instead  ? 
There  would,  after  all,  have  been  two  main  advan- 
tages in  that  method.     First,  it  would  have  been 
conclusive  :    this  the  oracle  seldom  was,  ^  as  in  the 
case  of  that  man  who  was  left  in  '  distressing  uncer- 
tainty whether  or  no  he  should  take  the  emetic' 
Secondly,   when  the  verdict  lay  simply  between 
*  Athena'   and  'her  owl,' ^  the  odds  on  a   right 
decision  were   at   least  even,  a  proportion  which 
Apollo   could  hardly  hope   to   emulate.     Yet   the 
Greeks  now,  as  later,  were  an  all  too  superstitious 
race,  and  on  this  occasion  Ariphron  was  only  one  of 
many  applicants  for  ghostly  counsel.     By  an  in- 
herited privilege  which  gave  him  precedence  of  the 
vulgar  herd,  he  should  have  been  the  first  to  consult 
the  god,  but  that  a  Spartan  who  put  in  a  similar 
clairQ  forestalled  him  on  a  cast  of  lots.     Ariphron 

»  The  « obverse'  and  'reverse'  of  an  Athenian  coin  were  stamped  in 
this  mianner. 


44  THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

therefore  concealed  his  impatience  and  turned  to 
inspect  the  monuments  of  the  Close.     He  admired 
the  great  tripod  set  up  after  the  battle  of  Plataea  : 
he  chudded  over  that  erasure  which  blotted  out  the 
self-laudatory  dedication  of  Pausanias,  the  Spartan 
general :    this  he  promised  himself  the  pleasure  of 
pointing  out  later  to  his  Spartan  rival  afore-men- 
tioned  throwing  m  perhaps  a  reference  to  the  great 
Temple  gable  which  would  add  something  of  a  sting 
to  the  comphment.     For  the  marble  group  erected 
therein,  and  representing  Pallas  doing  battle  with 
the  Giants,  had  been  given  by  members  of  his  own 
family  out  of  their  private  purse.     High  up  on  the 
temple  waU  he  could  read  the  famous  inscription 
Know  Thyself     and  the  mystical  letter  E.     But 

''jj  jP°"  .'^  °''^'"  *^^  wisdom  of  those  sages  who 
added  as  much  to  their  own  reputation  by  this  in- 
scrutable conundrum,  as  they  advanced  man's  moral 

sh^ort  ^''  °'°"°'  ^'  ^"""^^^  "^^^  suddenly  cut 

.  The  time  had  come  to  pay  his  fee  and  choose  his 

victim ;   so  selecting  a  sheep  that  seemed  likely  to 

^^^tl'X'l^'t  "^^^T,  "'^'^"^  commotion,  he  went 
up  to  the  high  altar  below  the  Temple  steps.     Here 
a  pnest  was  awaiting  him,  not  the  grave  in^maculate 
figure  that  a  priest  should  be,  but  a  snuffling  old 
fellow  in  dirty  white  robes,  with  a  crown  of  shriveUed 
bay  leaf  on  his  shiny  bald  head,  and  an  odour  about 
hmi  of  unmistakable  garlic.     As  he  was  ready  to 
officiate,  the  sheep  selected  for  its  passive  demeanour 
was  urged  gently  to  the  spot,  giving,  as  luck  would 
have  It,  no  lU-omened  sign  of  resentment.    A  torch 
was  taken  from  the  altar-embers,  and  plunged  in  holy 
water.     With  it  an  acolyte  then  hastUy  bespattered 


DELPHI 


45 


the  whole  party,  calling  loudly  on  them  as  he  did 
so  to  '  hold  their  peace.'     A  piper  struck  a  note,  and 
the  priest,  throwing  his  palms  ostentatiously  up- 
wards, rattled  off  the  ritual  prayer  in  a  high-pitched, 
nasal   sing-song.     Then,   just   as   the   victim  was 
quietly  licking  up  some  barley-corns  which  the  busy 
acolyte  had  been  scattering  over  its  head,  the  priest 
sprang  upon  it  with  a  knife,  seized  a  tuft  of  hair  on 
its  forehead  and,  severing  it  at  a  touch,  threw  it  upon 
the  altar  fire.     The  blaze  had  barely  time  to  die 
away  before  the  attendants  had  caught  the  animal ; 
they  stunned  it;   then  forcing  its  head  up  sky- 
wards, and  holding  a  bowl  to  catch  the  blood, 
they  drew  the  knife  across  its  throat.    With  equal 
speed  it  was  skinned,  the  thigh  bones  wrapped  in 
raw  fat,  and  laid  among  the  embers.     The  priest 
now  checked  the  flow  of  his  prayers  that  he  might 
peer  into  the  organs  of  the  carcase— and  presently, 
without  so  much  as  extricating  his  nose,  he  pro- 
nounced all  to  be  propitious.     Apollo  was,  so  to 
speak,  at  home,  and  Ariphron  might  put  his  question 

to  the  god. 

He  was  accordingly  ushered  up  the  Teniple  steps, 
while  the  priest  departed  on  his  way  rejoicing.  For 
was  not  roast  mutton  in  prospect  for  his  evening 

meal  ?  ,  <-,!.      v 

If  any  one  enters  a  cathedral  of  the  Greek  Church, 
and  listens  for  a  while  to  the  dreary  and  perfunctory 
performance  of  the  office,  he  wiU  soon  turn  for  relief 
to  the  pomp  and  solemnity  of  the  building  itself. 
Something  of  the  same  contrast,  one  fancies,  must 
have  been  felt,  however  dimly,  by  the  good  Ariphron, 
as  he  left  the  altar  of  sacrifice,  and  passing  under 
those  massive  pillars,  entered  the  mysterious  twi- 


46  THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

light  and  stm  presence  of  the  god.  A  marble  group 
of  the  Fates  stood  by  the  door,  and  he  kissed  his 
hand  m  reverence  half  afraid  that  they  might  open 
their  mouths  and  pronounce  his  doom  upon  ?he 
spot.  The  tablet  containing  the  question  which  he 
wished  to  put  was  here  taken  from  him  and  carried 
behmd  a  tapestry  that  covered  the  end  of  the  hall 
Ihis  veil  screened  from  profane  eyes  a  gronv  of 
priests  and  with  them  the  woman  that  in  a  few 
monients  was  to  be  the  mouthpiece  of  the  god 

sprint'  nf  '^"  ^i- 1^^  ^"^^'^  ^'^  '^'  Kastalian 
sprmg-a  stream  which  descends  in  a  thin  cascade 

between  those  two  halves  of  the  great  cliffs  which 

stm^in  r.'^'r'^  ?'  ^T""  '^°'^'  ^^^-^  trickles 
stiU  in  that  rift  or  chasm,  but  if  the  homeless  Muses 
ever  revisit  their  favourite  haunt  in  these  prosaic 

fT'^u^^  "^^  ''°''  ^^'^  ^  water-trough  rudely  cut 
into  their  grotto,  and  their  pool  fouled  with  the 
rinsing  and  scouring  of  the  viUage  washerwomen. 
The  Pythian  maiden  chmbed  on  to  a  high  stool 

inhaling  the  smoke  from  some  laurel  leaves  which 
smouldered  on  a  brazier,  and  chewing  some  more  in 
her  mouth.     Half  suffocated  she  swooned  away" 

rtfnH^f  f  '^°''?°^  ^°  ¥"  ^"^'^  fermented  there 
a  kind  of  epdeptic  frenzy  which  vented  itself  in  loud 
hysterical  cries.  Of  these  the  priests,  hitherto  in- 
different took  careful  note,  and  the  fit  dying  away 
they  conferred  together  while  the  prophetis  wks 
coming  to.  The  purport  of  her  utteraLe,  if  pur- 
port  there  can  have  been,  was  written  down,  and 
then  by  an  allowed  tribute  (though  a  doubtful  corn- 
to  ^u^!}-':,!:  ^^^'if —ptlrS^^^^^ 


DELPHI 


47 


pliment)  to  Apollo's  literary  powers,  was  converted 
into   obscure   and  somewhat   pedantic  hexameter 

verse. 

The  tablet  of  bay  leaf  on  which  it  was  written 
was  sealed  and  sent  out  by  the  usher  who  attended 
at  the  curtain.  On  the  further  side  Ariphron  was 
waiting  in  great  impatience.  He  had  approached 
as  near  to  the  curtain  as  was  proper  :  but  so  little 
could  he  hear  of  what  was  passing  that  his  eyes 
soon  wandered  round  the  building,  and  discovered 
through  the  gloom  a  curious  object.  It  was  a  large 
egg-shaped  stone,  wreathed  with  garlands,^  and  he 
recognised  it  at  once  as  the  famous  Navel  or  centre 
of  the  earth.  The  spot  had  been  fixed,  so  it  \yas 
said,  by  Zeus,  who  it  appears  had  made  this  quaint 
geographical  discovery  by  loosing  two  eagles  from 
either  rim  of  the  world.  It  was  here  at  Delphi  that 
they  met.  Ariphron  was  speculating  whether  the 
new  science  that  certain  wiseacres  were  just  then 
propounding  at  Athens,  would  upset  this  comfort- 
able theory  when  the  tablet  arrived.  Wrapping 
it  in  the  fold  of  his  cloak,  he  emerged  into  daylight, 
and  refusing  the  services  of  a  self-styled  Expounder 
he  carried  it  apart  to  read  :  it  contained  a  single 
line  : — 

CONSUEROR  OVER  THE  SEAS,  SO  HE  SHAME  NOT  THE 

SONG  OF  THE  MYSTAE. 

The  Immortal  Doctor  had  given  his  prescription  ; 
the  homeward  journey  gave  ample  period  to  digest 
its  meaning.  Yet  truth  to  tell  the  divine  pronounce- 
ment called  for  some  more  human  interpretation. 
In  his  perplexity  Ariphron  went  round  to  consult 

»  This  stone  may  have  been  in  the  Inner  Sanctum.     It  is  a  doubtfiil 
point. 


48 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


his  friends.  Nikias,  whom  he  stopped  in  the 
market,  answered  impatiently  that  he  should  obey 
the  voice  of  heaven  and,  with  a  hint  of  pressing 
business  with  the  priests,  bustled  off  to  the  Metroun. 
Ariphron  next  called  on  the  High  Warden  of  the 
Mysteries,  who  held  forth  on  the  advantages  of 
vegetable  diet.  Chancing  on  Sokrates  by  the  Nine 
Fountains,  he  was  bullied  into  giving  two  distinct 
and  highly  inconsistent  definitions  of  Shame  and 
Shamelessness.  Sophokles  was  no  better,  wandering 
off  on  to  the  relation  of  dance  and  song  in  the  cult 
of  Dionysos.  Perikles,  who  was  mildly  sceptical, 
gravely  lectured  him  on  the  dangers  of  foreign 
conquest.  Herodotos  by  ill-fortune  had  lately 
migrated  to  the  West,  or  he  would,  for  aught  I  know, 
have  retailed  some  miraculous  fustian  imparted  to 
him  in  a  personal  interview  by  a  priest  in  Pekin.  In 
a  word,  everybody  gave  him  much  good  advice, 
scanty  sympathy,  and  of  light  on  the  oracle  none. 
*  What  that  meant,'  the  despairing  Ariphron  said, 
'  nobody  knows  but  a  bird  in  the  air.' 


TRIREME 

The  view  is  taken  looking  north  across  the  Corinthian 
Gulf,  a  few  miles  west  of  Patras.  A  galley  with  close- 
reefed  sail  is  being  rowed  near  the  shore.  Note  the  oars 
arranged  in  triplets,  the  decked  poop,  and  the  *  eye '  at  the 
prow  painted  there  as  a  charm  against  evil.  The  bronze 
beak  may  be  seen  more  clearly  on  the  galley  beached  upon 
the  left. 


V.  A  BATTLE  AT  SEA 

*  Safety  lies  in  the  ^wooden  nvalls.^ 

(Delphic  Oracle.) 

If  the  grave  old  historiographers  of  Greece  could 
live  again,  how  they  would  smile  at  our  modern 
theorists  with  their  fragments  of  pottery  or  stone, 
and  their  papyrus  and  statistics,  and  endless  vilifica- 
tion of  German  tracts.  Thukydides  having  an  in- 
scription to  quote,  as  often  as  not  quoted  it  wrong. 
To  his  idea  the  only  source  worth  the  name  was 
the  living  speech  of  Agora,  Pnyx  and  Peiraieus,  but 
especially  Peiraieus,  for  here  the  news  was  fresh  at  the 
spring,  and  not  as  yet  fouled  by  passing  many  mouths. 
One  morning  in  late  autumn  when  the  gales 
begin,  and  such  men  in  ships  as  are  able  to  do  so 
get  quickly  home  to  port,  Thukydides  left  his  house 
and  turned  down  towards  the  Peiraieus.  Athens  was 
just  then  a  dreadful  place  :  for  the  plague  was  rife  ; 
and  it  was  good  to  come  out  upon  the  quay,  and 
better  still  to  find  a  cock-fight  there,  and  a  handful 
of  young  men  in  a  gay  mood.  The  sport  was  so 
keen  that  even  his  eye  never  noticed  a  galley  put  in, 
nor  yet  a  little  man  passing  by,  as  he  presently  did, 
with  a  twelve-foot  oar  over  his  shoulder.  Alki- 
biades,  however,  who  had  also  joined  the  ring,  had 
quicker  eyesight,  and  turned  to  grasp  the  stranger 
by  the  hand.  Now  at  Athens  one  does  not  so  accost 
a  casual  acquaintance  in  the  street :  there  was  even 
something  solemn  about  the  handshake :  for  it  was 


A  BATTLE  AT  SEA 


SI 


H 


H 


the  only  symbol  of  final  parting  which  the  sculp- 
tors allowed  themselves  in  those  little  scenes  of 
farewell  on  tombstones.  At  any  rate  it  was  thus 
that  one  bade  God-speed  to  a  traveller  or  welcomed 
one  returned  from  distant  lands.  Therefore  Thuky- 
dides scented  news.  *  By  the  gods  of  Olympos,'  he 
heard  Alkibiades  say,  *  if  it  be  not  Klelgenes'  brother, 
the  barber,  may  I  never  be  shaved  again.  What, 
my  little  fellow  ?  Home  from  playing  watch-dog 
on  the  Straits  with  Phormio  ?  ^  Covered  with 
glory,  sir — and  bUsters  ?  God  be  praised  that  they 
have  spared  you  yet  awhile  from  the  Banquets  of  the 
Blest.  Zeus  'a'  mercy !  but  that  look  of  yours  will 
turn  us  all  to  stone.  Relent,  Odysseus,  and  spin 
us  a  wanderer's  tale.  Come  now,  we  're  just  our- 
selves :  the  battle  at  the  Straits.' 

A  member  of  the  new-comer's  profession,  for 
barber  he  was,  could  not  even  in  antiquity  resist 
so  golden  an  opportunity  for  talking,  and  he  took 
up  his  tale  forthwith.  *  One  night — I  have  lost 
count  of  the  moons  long  since — ^we  were  all  of  us 
ashore  on  the  beach  at  Naupaktos,  and  very  miser- 
able we  were.  Zeus,  but  I  never  spent  a  night  more 
pitifully.  Such  storms,  such  bursts  of  thunder,  that 
by  sunrise  we  were  all  wishing  ourselves  in  Egypt, 
that  we  might  never  smell  rain  again.  It  was  this 
same  rain,  I  make  no  doubt,  saved  them  in  Plataea,* 
quenching,  as  they  tell  me,  a  big  fire.    But  no  matter, 

1  See  Introduction.  Phormio's  squadron  were  blockading  the  Gulf 
of  Corinth,  thus  cutting  off  all  traffic  between  the  Peloponnese  and  the 
West.  A  Spartan  army  was  attempting  to  secure  a  land  route  across 
Actolia  and  Achamania. 

«  The  Plataeans  were  besieged  by  the  Spartans  j  and  an  attempt  wti 
made  to  set  fire  to  their  barricades.  A  timely  storm  quenched  the  fire, 
as  Thukydides  relates. 


'  1 


52 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


for  our  part  we  were  barely  dry,  and  still  busy 
draining  the  water  from  the  holds,  when  a  native 
longboat  came  clattering  into  port,  at  top  speed 
with  sail  and  oar,  and  sung  out  peremptorily  for 
Phormio. 

'  To  cut  the  story  short,  our  score  of  galleys  were 
soon  run  out,  and  we  were  pulling  up  the  gulf,  till 
our  look-out  at  the  bows  sighted  some  twenty  sail 
to  the  south  of  us  and  near  in  shore ;  undeniably 
Corinthians,  and  clearly  on  mischief  bound.  We 
fetched  about  to  take  stock  of  them.  They  were 
making  little  way,  being  clumsy  barrel-bottomed 
craft,  with  a  contraband  cargo  of  military  gentlemen, 
and  a  crew  more  at  home,  I  dare  wager,  with  short 
sword  or  pike  than  with  thole-pin  and  halyard. 
Not  wishing  to  oversail  them,  we  took  in  a  double 
reef  and  hung  upon  their  rear  as  a  Spartan  hound 
follows  at  the  tail  of  a  sow's  litter.  Poseidon's 
Temple  at  the  Naze  should  at  our  own  pace  have 
been  cleared  by  noon ;  but  by  Zeus,  sirj^  it  was  after 
dusk  ere  we  had  made  open  water.  Just  then  under 
cover  of  dark  they  made  as  if  to  anchor  on  the  sly — 
but  with  such  a  clatter  and  ado  that  it  would  have 
needed  the  very  cap  of  Hades  to  have  effectually 
concealed  them.  We  for  our  part  were  soon  ware 
of  it ;  and  lay  off  the  northern  shore  to  watch.  A 
night  at  sea  !  Oh,  what  is  there  to  liken  to  it  f 
By  the  Dog,  my  masters,  Salamis  was  a  cheap 
victory  in  comparison  with  ours  :  they  at  least  spent 
the  previous  night  ashore.  It  was  the  better  side  of 
midnight  when  a  marine  on  deck  roused  us  all  by 
shouting  that  the  enemy  were  already  half  across 
the  gulf.  So  we  are  in  for  a  battle,  thought  I 
to  myself,  and  remembered  my  hands  and  back 


A  BATTLE  AT  SEA 


S3 


K 


were  sore,  and  strange  to  say  the  latter  considera- 
tion, the  soreness  I  should  say,  troubled  me  by  far 

the  more.  ^  -.      .  j-  -u 

*  There  was  not  long  to  wait :  a  snatch  oi  ditny- 
rambs  ^  was  chanted  to  the  god  and  a  pint  of  the 
best  Pramnian  ^  spilled  on  the  deck  for  luck ;    and 
we  weighed  anchor  without  more  ceremony.    In 
the  grey  of  morning  I  could  just  see  them  from  my 
bench  dumping  the  anchor  stones  on  deck,  lowering 
the  main  mast  in  its  crutch,  and  making  ready  the 
battle   sails   against   need.     Then   they   drew   the 
canvas  awning  over,  and  left  us  ten  score  shivering 
souls  in  the  hold  as  black  as  Charon's  ferry.     I  was 
on  a  trireme,^  you  must  know,  and  so  had  two 
partners  to  my  bench.     One  was  that  starveUng  poet 
Kinesias,  a  melancholy  fellow  who  had  never  before 
been   to   sea.     The   other  was   a   ferryman   from 
Salamis,  he  was  as  brawny  as  Milo— and  had  a  ready 
turn  of  wit,  for  he  set  us  a  riddle  to  hearten  us. 
"  King,  Satrap,  and  slave,"  it  ran,  "  ploughing  one 
furrow."     "  The  King,"  says  he,  without  staying  for 
an  answer,  "  that 's  me  on  my  throne  up  here  :  the 
Satrap  is  Kinesias  upon  my  step,  and  the  slave  is  the 
fellow  there  down  on  the  floor,"  meaning  me.     For, 
as  you  must  know,  each  bench  in  a  trireme  arises  in 
three  levels,  as  it  were  three  steps  towards  the  middle 
of  the  ship.     But  the  oar  of  the  top  step  and  the  oar 
of  the  middle  step  and  the  oar  of  the  lowest  step  all 
pass  through  one  rowlock-port,  and  all  strike  the 
sea  even,  ploughing,  as  a  man  might  say,  one  furrow. 
It  ''s  well  enough  if  the  sea  is  calm  and  you  keep 

>  A  popular  metre  of  a  swinging  unrestrained  type. 
*  Pramnian  wine  was  a  special  favourite. 
'  See  Note  at  end  of  chapter. 


54 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


good  time  :  but  in  a  heavy  swell  it 's  long  odds  you 
will  bark  your  knuckles  on  your  partner's  oar. 

*  As  our  Salaminian  expounded  his  riddle  the  ship's 
master  thought  fit  to  leave  his  cabin  aft,  and  strut 
up  the  middle  gangway  to  give  us  a  lecture.  At 
home  he  keeps  a  vegetable  store  and  has  made  a 
fortune  in  garlic  since  the  supply  from  Megara  was 
stopped,^  a  close  man  of  business  if  you  will,  but 
no  soldier  nor  sailor  either.  And  though  primed 
for  nonce  with  much  second-hand  eloquence,  he  had 
a  tell-tale  yellowness  about  the  gills.  With  the  hold 
as  black  as  night  and  him  chattering  like  any  cricket, 
I  put  my  head  to  the  porthole  that  I  might  pull 
down  the  leather  flap  and  make  all  water-tight.  As 
I  did  so,  I  saw  Phormio's  ship  go  by,  smooth  as  an  eel 
and  as  black  as  pitch.  All  but  the  great  scarlet  eye, 
painted  under  the  prow,  and  the  gilded  figure  of 
Pallas  shining  above  the  beak.  I  could  see  the  teeth 
of  the  beak,  too,  and  the  Admiral's  purple  ensign  at 
the  mast ;  but  it  was  only  a  glimpse,  for  the  boat- 
swain was  crying  "  Ready,"  and  I  must  pull  in  my 
head.  Another  word  and  we  were  rattling  away  like 
a  race,  to  the  time  of  the  flute,  and  the  boatswain's 
call  of  "  R-r-rh^-pa-pai-pa-pai !  " 

*  Kinesias,  who  was  blue  with  fright  and  sickness, 
kept  asking  nervously  if  all  aboard  had  been  baptized 
into  the  Holy  Mysteries ;  and  presently  when  one 
of  the  marines  on  deck  shouted  that  the  enemy 
were  within  hail,  he  fell  to  muttering  prayers,  till 
the  boatswain  called  him  to  silence.  At  our  ap- 
proach, so  I  heard  from  a  marine,  the  enemy  formed 
a  ring,  prows  outward.     Have  you  seen  a  hound 

1  One  of  Perikles'  first  acts  of  offence  against  Sparta  was  to  declare 
a  blockade  against  all  exports  from  her  ally  Megara. 


A  BATTLE  AT  SEA 


55 


move  in  circles  about  a  crouching  hare  ?  just  so 
we  circled  round  them  for  a  while.    And  at  dawn,  • 
when  a  fresh  breeze  sprung  up  which  set  them 
jostling  one  another  like  pilchards  in  a  net,  the 
trumpet  from  Phormio's  ship  gave  us  the  sign  to 
charge.     The  boatswain  quickened  the  time;    we 
rowed  for  very  life  :   one  long,  long  moment  and 
then  came  "  ship  your  oars,"  just  as  we  grazed  a  hand- 
breadth  from  a  Corinthian  hulk.     Their  marines  on 
deck  dropped  the  grappling  hooks  to  catch  us  :  but 
they  fell  late  and  missed  the  ship.    Their  men  were 
ready  on  the  deck  too,  meaning  if  possible  to  board 
us :;  one  mad  feUow  caught  at  our  rigging  with  a 
sort  of  scythe  and  came  dancing  along  at  the  end  of 
it,  hopping  like  a  flea  in  a  blanket,  aU  down  his  deck. 
'  But  our  ship  shaved  past  and,  as  it  did  so,  every 
oar  of  them  from  prow  to  poop  was  snapped  clean 
ofi  at  the  rowlock-ports,  clean  as  the  hairs  fall,  sir, 
under  my  razor's  blade.     Then  the  helmsman  put 
our  steering  paddle  hard  to  port ;  we  swung  round, 
and  before  you  could  cry  "  cuckoo  "  we  had  charged 
again,  crashing  into  their  stern.     Our  whole  boat 
shivered  at  the  shock,  till  you  would  have  sworn 
the  girding  ropes  would  burst,  but  not   a  plank 
started  :    while  as  for  them,  our  beak  ripped  their 
timbers  with  its  bronze  teeth,  and  there  lay  water- 
logged and  helpless. 

'  We  secured  such  of  the  crew  as  had  not  swum 
away  and  then  took  the  hulk  in  tow.  As  we  made 
for  port  we  raised  the  song  of  victory— and  we  must 
have  waked  old  Archilochos  down  in  Hades  with  his 
"  Ri-fol-di-ray  for  the  hero  of  the  day."  ^    As  we 

1  The  «Tenella  Kallinikos  *— the  first  word  is  merely  an  imitation 
of  the  trills  of  a  pipe  or  flute. 


56 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


A  BATTLE  AT  SEA 


57 


swung  up  the  narrows,  we  could  see  the  folk  in 
Patrae  scuttling  up  into  their  keep,  in  a  desperate 
hurry  and  alarm  at  the  turn  things  had  taken. 
Once  on  shore  we  set  to  work  and  hacked  the  figure- 
heads from  the  captured  ships,  and  with  them  we 
raised  a  trophy  out  on  the  Naze  chifs.  So  it  was, 
sir,  that  we  handled  their  precious  fleet,  and  we 
balked  the  Spartan  schemes  into  the  bargain,  for 
not  so  much  as  one  skilly-fed  Helot  ever  reached 
General  Knemos  in  AetoHa  ;  and  he,  for  the  matter 
of  that,  suffered  defeat  at  the  very  self-same  hour, 
so  men  told  us  who  came  from  the  inland  parts.  Aye, 
Corinth,  '*  son  of  Zeus,"  ^  as  they  call  you,  it  was 
a  bonny  harvest  that  you  reaped  that  day  ! ' 

Then  Thukydides  went  home  and  set  to  work 
upon  the  third  roll  of  his  history,  which  we  term 
the  eighty-second  chapter  of  his  second  book. 


Note  on  the  Arrangement  of  Oars  in  a  Trireme 

The  arrangement  of  oars  in  a  trireme  is  still  a  much 
debated  point.  On  the  commonly  accepted  theory,  the 
oars  were  in  three  banks,  one  above  the  other  :  this  would 
give  three  tiers  of  rowers,  the  top  tier  sitting  over  the  heads 
of  the  second,  the  second  over  the  heads  of  the  third.  At 
this  rate,  however,  the  man  on  the  top  bench  would  be 
required  to  pull  an  oar  double  or  treble  the  length  of  that 
of  the  man  nearest  the  water — which  is  absurd.  Time- 
keeping would  be  a  farce. 

Let  us  turn  to  the  alternative  suggestion.  Suppose  (as 
is  but  reasonable)  that  all  oars  be  rigged  on  the  same  level, 
so  that  all  the  blades  strike  the  water  at  an  even  distance 

*  An  expression  of  somewhat  obscure  origin,  to  which  allusion  is 
often  made  in  the  Classics. 


3 


f 


from  the  ship.    Then  arises  the  question,  what  means  the 
number  3  implied  in  the  name  /r/'-reme  ? 

Now  we  are  expressly  told  that  the  oars  were  not  all 
equal,  but  of  different  lengths,  Mike  the  fingers  of  the 
hand.'  Suppose  therefore  that  they  be  grouped  in  threes, 
No.  I  of  each  triplet  being  a  little  longer  than  No.  2,  and 
No.  2  a  little  longer  than  No.  3  j  all  three  passing  out  of 
one  oblong  slit  or  porthole,  and  pivoting  upon  thole-pins 
placed  six  or  nine  inches  apart.  How  will  our  rowers  sit 
now  ?  Not  one  above  the  other,  but  side  by  side.  No.  3 
with  the  short  oar  will  sit  nearest  to  the  ship's  bulwarks. 
No.  2  will  sit  elbow  to  elbow  with  him,  but,  as  the  more 
advanced  position  and  the  greater  length  of  his  oar  demand, 
his  thwart  will  be  slightly  to  the  front  of  No.  3  and  on  a 
slightly  higher  level.  In  the  same  way  No.  i  will  sit  at 
the  side  of  No.  2,  but  slightly  in  advance  and  at  a  slightly 
higher  level.  Thus  we  find  our  rowers  still  ranged  in 
three  tiers — and  the  only  question  is  whether  it  will  work 
in  practice. 

Some  difficulty  there  might  still  be  in  keeping  time: 
but  no  more  than  accurate  training  might  overcome. 
The  position  of  the  thole-pins  could  easily  be  adjusted 
somewhat  aslant,  in  such  a  way  that  each  oar  should  pivot 
on  the  proper  point  of  its  shaft.  There  is  one  curious  fact 
in  confirmation.  During  the  Middle  Ages,  it  seems,  galleys 
were  actually  built  at  Venice  which  were  propelled  by  oars 
thus  grouped  in  triplets.  Not  so  long  ago,  under  the 
direction  of  Admiral  Fincati  of  the  Italian  navy,  experi- 
ments were  made  with  a  boat  rigged  in  this  fashion.  The 
model  achieved  remarkable  success,  and  gave  a  speed  of 
some  nine  miles  per  hour.  The  illustrations  show  a 
trireme  rowed  on  this  system.  The  theory  is  explained 
more  fully  by  Mr.  A.  B.  Cook  in  the  Classical  Review  of 
1905. 


V 


THE  INTERIOR  OF  A  TRIREME 

For  explanation  of  the  arrangement  of  the  rowers  in 
triplets,  see  Note  at  end  of  the  chapter. 

A  piper  is  giving  the  time  to  the  oarsmen,  his  pipes  held 
in  place  by  a  sort  of  muzzle  or  head-strap.  On  deck  is  a 
marine. 


^ 

^ 
^ 

H 


C 
H 


VI.  A  LAND  BATTLE 

These  that  their  country  might  continue  free 

From  sorrowfuUest  slavery, 
Wear  the  wan  livery  of  dusty  death, 

But  whosoever  reckoneth 
The  prize  of  their  endeavour,  let  him  stand 

And  bravely  die  for  fatherland. 

(Greek  Epitaph.) 

On  a  day  when  men  in  Athens  were  abeady  growing 
weary  of  the  war,  Trygaios  the  vine-dresser  ^  came 
up  from  sentry-go  on  the  Long  Walls.  Strolling 
over  the  Pnyx  hill  and  down  into  the  hollow  beneath 
the  Areopagos  rocks,  he  passed  hard  by  the  open 
space  where  the  ten  Tribal  Patron  Saints  stand  in 
effigy,  and  saw  there  a  great  crowd  gathering.  He 
turned  aside  somewhat  wearily  (for  his  watch  had 
kept  him  up  all  night)  to  see  what  this  new  thing 
might  be.  Some  one  was  reading  aloud.  Indeed 
several  persons  were  reading  aloud  with  great  vigour, 
all  at  once  (for  in  Athens  no  one  ever  reads  silently 
and  to  himself).  That  which  they  were  reading 
was  written  in  charcoal  upon  the  whitened  boards 
suspended  on  the  pedestals  of  the  effigies  aforesaid. 
Alkibiades  and  other  young  dandies,  fresh  from 
cavalry  drill  at  the  Lykeion,  outside  the  walls,  tossed 
their  long  hair  ^  as  they  passed,  chnked  their  spurs 
upon  the  stones  and  gave  a  loud  cheer  for  the 

I  Trygaios  is  the  name  of  the  hero  of  Aristophanes'  Peace.    He 
represents  the  agriculturalist's  point  of  view. 

•  The  cavalry  by  a  special  privilege  wore  their  hair  long. 


6o 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


generals.  Trygaios  wondered  at  their  impudence, 
seeing  what  was  the  popular  feeling  at  the  time  : 
but  he  soon  ceased  to  wonder  any  more  when  the 
news,  passing  rapidly  from  mouth  to  mouth, 
reached  his  ears ;  it  was  marching  orders  for  all 
Athens — every  male  that  could  bear  arms,  from  the 
raw  recruit  of  eighteen  to  the  veteran  of  threescore 
and  ten.  Well  might  Alkibiades  and  his  friends, 
the  young  fire-eaters,  look  pleased,  but  for  Trygaios 
it  was  very  different :  he  had  not  even  the  heart  to 
search  for  his  own  name  on  the  list ;  he  thought 
instead  of  the  long-promised  peace  and  the  old  farm 
at  the  head  of  the  plain  and  the  seeds  he  had  meant 
to  sow  when  autumn  came,  and  very  heartily  he 
cursed  the  generals  and  all  that  deal  in  war. 

Like  Trygaios  the  vine-dresser,  every  one 
grumbled,  and  like  him  every  one  acquiesced ;  and 
the  evening  was  spent  in  much  wild  conjecture  over 
the  campaign,  in  abuse  of  Hippokrates  the  general, 
and  in  diligent  polishing  of  arms.  But  that  is,  after 
all,  the  true  spirit  of  Democracy.  Trygaios  un- 
hooked his  second  shield  from  the  ingle-nook  and 
brightened  its  leather  face  with  oil.  His  wife  made 
up  a  bundle  of  onions  and  garlic  in  a  knapsack  and 
put  in  three  days'  rations  of  salted  fish.  Then  after 
a  farewell  to  his  children,  and  a  cheery  word  to  his 
wife,  Trygaios  was  ready  to  go  at  early  dawn  to  the 
rendezvous  at  Kolonos.  Those  were  his  orders, 
and  what  the  next  move  might  be,  neither  he  nor 
any  one  else  could  tell. 

Organised  secrecy  was  scarcely  suggested  by  the 
babel  and  confusion  of  that  meeting.  As  each 
squad  ^  fell  in  with  its  tribal  company,  the  orderly 

*  X(J;ifOff  =  squad.     Tariff  =  tribal  company. 


A  LAND  BATTLE 


6i 


screamed  out  the  muster-roll.     Some  names  passed 
unanswered.     At  Ameipsias'  name  none  spoke  :  he 
was  dead  of  the  plague.     But  when  Meidias  did 
not  reply,  there  was  a  buzz  of  comment.     *  At 
home  with  sore  eyes,'  said  his  friends :   '  an  excuse 
as  old  as  Thermopylae,'  said  others,  and  hinted  at 
a   trial   for   desertion.     Gaps,   however,   were   few 
enough — all  Athens  was  out ;    striplings  with  only 
half  a  training,  veterans  that  had  not  held  a  spear 
since   Oenophyta,   twenty  years   back;    the   very 
rabble  of  the  poorest  class  were  there,  useful  as 
skirraishers  at  a  pinch — even  the  '  outlanders  '  had 
been  pressed  into  service  in  the  ranks.    Yet  for  all 
that  it  was  a  very  exceptional  muster  there  was 
never  a  hint  of  whither  they  were  bound.     Some 
wiseacres  nodded  their  heads  very  sagely,  but  they 
knew  no  more  than  the  rest.     Soon,  however,  the 
word  of  command  was  given,  the  squads  filed  past, 
the  cooks  packed  up  their  saucepans,  the  muleteers 
whipped   up    their   beasts,    hoplites'    bodyservants 
shouldered  their  masters'  shields ;  slowly,  with  some 
confusion  and  with  a  great  undisciplined  crowd  of 
hawkers,  slaves  and  sutlers  straggling  in  its  rear,  the 
great  line  got  fairly  under  way.    When  finally  the 
van  set  its  face  for  the  mountains  to  the  north  all 
doubts  vanished,  and  they  knew  that  Boeotia  was 
their  goal.     There  is  a  pass  over  these  northern  hills 
called  Dekelea,  which  afterwards  became  famous  as 
a  stronghold  of  the  Spartan  enemy.     To  this  dip, 
which  can  be  clearly  seen  from  Athens,  the  cavalry 
novi^  galloped  on  ahead.     Alkibiades  led  the  way, 
seated  on  a  mettlesome  charger  and  carrying  a  new 
and  gorgeous  shield  on  which  the  device  of  a  golden 
Cupid  was  blazoned.     He  was  the  envy  of  the  corps, 


62 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


and  no  wonder  :  he  might  well  have  stepped  down 
straight  from  the  Parthenon  Frieze. 

^  Will  it  be  an  army  ? '  the  sleepy  Boeotian  shep- 
herds vaguely  wondered  as  the  next  day  dawned 
and   their   panic-stricken   flocks   came   scampering 
up  the  slopes.     They  were  not  left  long  in  doubt, 
for  they  could  soon  see  great  clouds  of  dust  roUing 
down  the  valleys  through  which  the  road  runs  to 
the  plain.     Their  dull  wits  were  still  slowly  waking 
to  the  truth,  when  the  first  Athenian  files  struck 
level  soil.     A  messenger  was  then  dispatched  in  a 
hurry  to  Thebes,  but  before  he  was  well  on  his  way 
these  same  ominous  dust  clouds  were  steadily  creep- 
ing across  the  plain  and  moving  along  the  shore  of 
that  blue  lane  of  water  which  men  called  Euripos 
or  the  Fair  Current,^  because  it  is  very  subject  to 
tides.     On  the  farther  side  of  the  water  the  wall  of 
Euboean  mountains  rises  and  falls,  in  swelling  out- 
Unes,  and  up  the  strait  westwards ;  where  it  begins 
to  narrow  in,  there  is  a  low  hill  lying  back  some 
distance  from  the  shore.     On  it,  conspicuous  above 
a  cluster  of  low  red-tiled  roofs,  there  stands  a  temple. 
It  is  Delion  :  and  they  are  at  their  goal  at  last. 

The  place  was  empty  when  they  reached  it.  The 
servants  of  Apollo  had  not  awaited  their  arrival  : 
only  the  huge  ungainly  idol  was  there  to  receive 
them,  *  with  a  smile  on  his  face  like  any  silly  Theban,' 
as  Alkibiades  irreverently  put  it.  The  image  ^  was 
certainly  not  beautiful ;    but  the  precinct  offered 

>  Doubtless  a  euphemism  for  the  Foul  Current.  Cp.  Euxine  Sea. 
Eumcnides,  etc. 

«  The  statues  of  an  early  date  always  wore  an  idiotic  simper  which 
the  artists  seem  to  have  considered  a  lifelike  expression.  Boeotian  art 
was  always  a  little  backward,  and  the  Boeotian  character  was  always 
t  laughmg-stock  in  Athens.  ^ 


A  LAND  BATTLE 


63 


excellent  shelter  to  a  tired  army.  They  soon  made 
themselves  at  home,  dipped  with  their  helmets  in 
rock-cut  cistern  of  the  god,  smirched  his  marble 
columns  with  the  smoke  of  their  camp  fire,  finally 
spread  their  sheepskins  under  his  cloister  walls,  and, 
one  by  one,  went  impiously  to  sleep.  Soon  all  that 
could  be  heard  was  the  sentries  going  on  their  rounds 
and  passing  the  bell  along  from  post  to  post. 

Overnight,  General  Hippokrates  had  viewed  the 
place  carefully,  and  judged  it  to  have  the  makings 
of  a  first-class  fort.  Accordingly  when  the  sun  was 
up,  it  was  all  hands  to  the  work.  Walls  were 
heightened,  doorways  blocked,  timber  towers  were 
knocked  together  from  rafters  and  beams,  and 
mounted  at  the  weakest  points.  An  outer  palisade 
and  fosse  were  part  of  the  scheme  ;  and  here  it  was 
lay  the  chief  business  of  the  day.  The  earth  which 
was  thrown  up  from  the  ditch  was  packed  together 
between  a  framework  of  wattle-fencing,  and  vines 
cut  from  the  neighbouring  fields  were  thrown  in 
to  miake  it  bind.  Here  and  there  rough  facings  of 
stone  were  added,  formed  from  boulders  out  of  the 
stream  bed  or  blocks  from  the  ruined  cloister.  As 
may  well  be  imagined,  this  work  continued  all  that 
day,  and  most  of  the  next.  It  was  past  the  hour 
of  the  midday  meal  before  all  was  complete.  Then 
Hippokrates,  feeUng  secure  of  the  strength  of  his 
position,  and  keeping  only  some  few  picked  troops 
with  which  to  garrison  the  new-made  fort,  gave 
orders  for  the  march.  Having  accompUshed  his 
purpose,  he  was  ready,  like  the  king  of  Spain  in  the 
song,  to  lead  his  army  home  again.  The  men  were 
naturally  in  good  spirits,  and,  as  they  armed,  they 
joked.    Years  afterwards,  forgetting  the  disasters 


64 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


that  followed,  men  talked  of  the  incidents  of  that 
arming :  how  Kleonymos,  '  that  huge  hill  of  flesh,' 
needed  two  men's  help  to  strap  him  into  his  breast- 
plate, and  how  when  the  trumpet  sounded,  Sokrates 
was  still  stamping  up  and  down  with  his  helmet  on, 
and  with  the  plume  in  his  hand,  bhndly  fumbhng 
for  the  socket  on  his  crown. 

Scarcely  ten  furlongs  had  been  covered,  and  the 
Attic  frontier  barely  crossed,  when  the  heavy  in- 
fantry halted  and  let  the  hght  troops  go  by.  They 
laid  their  shields  on  the  ground  where  each  man 
stood,  and  composed  themselves  for  the  midday 
siesta,  ever  jealous,  as  Greeks  were,  of  the  appointed 
times  and  habits  of  their  daily  round,  and  sadly 
inattentive  to  the  principles  of  strategy. 

At   this   very   moment,   an   hour's   march   away 
behind  the  hills,  Pagondas  was  already  haranguing 
the  levies  hastily  raised  from  Thebes.     This,  indeed, 
seems  a  foohsh  and  unnecessary  delay  when  all  turned 
upon  speed.     But  it  is  one  of  the  axioms  of  Greek 
warfare  that  though  you  may  bring  your  men  to 
the  battlefield,  yet  unless  you  have  first  assured 
him  that  the  gods  are  with  him,  that  the  omens  are 
good,  and  (if  possible)  that  his  cause  is  good  also, 
unless,  in  short,  you  have  well  persuaded  him  that 
he  has  every  reasonable  prospect  of  victory,  he  will 
make  a  poor  fight  of  it.     This  delay  gave  time  for 
news    of    their    danger    to    reach    the    Athenians. 
Warnmg  was  sent  back  to  Hippokrates,  who  im- 
mediately hurried  up  from  Dehon.     He  found  the 
heavy  column  on  the  road  again  ;  they  were  march- 
mg  as  usual,  in  squads  eight  deep  and  four  abreast ; 
and  squad  foUowed  squad,  marshaUed,  as  it  were,  Hke 
a  long  line  of  dominoes,  end  on  end.    Hippokrates 


A  LAND  BATTLE 


6S 


gave  the  command  to  form  battle  order  at  once, 
and  the  men  passed  it  down  by  word  of  mouth  from 
rank  to  rank.  It  was  a  somewhat  lengthy  manoeuvre, 
and  not  easy  over  the  rough  ground.  The  front 
squad  halted,  and  the  other  squads  moved  up  and 
formed  upon  its  left,  so  that  the  squads  were  now 
placed  like  dominoes  side  by  side,  and  the  line 
therefore  stood  eight  deep.  In  this  manner  the 
leaders  in  each  squad  came  to  the  front,  and  that 
(as  will  be  seen  from  the  character  of  the  fight)  was 
an  important  matter.  But  of  all  the  front-rank 
men  none  were  more  important  than  our  friend 
Trygaios.  For  he  was  posted  at  the  point  of  danger, 
Number  One  on  the  right.  Hitherto  he  had  stood 
his  ground  watching  the  shield  wall  lengthen  and 
lengthen  till  it  reached  the  shore  far  away  to  his 
left.  Then  came  the  order, '  Turn  upon  the  spear,' 
and  wheeling  upon  Trygaios  as  pivot-man,  the 
whole  army  swung  round  right-handed  till  they 
came  into  position  along  the  line  of  the  road.  Here 
they  rested.  There  was  indeed  no  call  to  go  out 
to  meet  the  enemy,  for  the  fight  must  take  place 
down  on  the  plain  or  not  at  all.  This  was  a  neces- 
sity imposed  by  the  nature  of  the  country.  Above 
the  point  where  the  ploughland  ceases,  the  hill- 
sides are  clothed  knee-deep  in  spiky  moorland  scrub, 
under  which  lies  a  loose  litter  of  stony  rock  such  as 
would  rejoice  the  heart  of  a  cony,  but  is  sheer  despair 
to  a  top-heavy  hophte  with  a  twenty-pound  shield 
on  his  arm,  not  to  mention  the  greaves  and  breast- 
plate that  encumbered  his  person.  An  agile  man 
unarmed  might  leap  lightly  from  boulder  to  boulder, 
but  the  hopUte  would  flounder  after  the  first  step  on 
such  treacherous  foothold.    Now  since  this  's  the 


£ 


66 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


character  of  all  Greek  mountains,  the  Greeks,  hold- 
ing that  an  honest  battle  should  be  fought  between 
two  lines  of  men  both  armed  to  the  teeth,  accepted 
the  plain,  by  a  sort  of  etiquette,  as  the  only  proper 
place  for  a  fight.  In  their  position  on  the  plain  the 
Athenians  therefore  stood  their  ground,  waiting 
for  the  enemy  and  shading  their  eyes  under  the 
westering  sun  for  the  gleam  of  shields  descending. 
These  moments  Hippokrates  turned  to  ready  use  : 
the  critical  moment  called  for  speech,  and  on  the 
instant  the  general  became  the  orator,  *  his  eyes 
flashing  fire,  his  frame  all  quivering  with  emotion, 
wielding  his  every  limb,  he  poured  forth  the  eloquent 
torrent  of  his  commands  and  prayers.'  The  cus- 
tomary appeals  came  aptly  to  his  mouth — Temples 
of  the  Gods,  homes  and  country,  wives  and  children, 
the  memory  of  past  victories,  the  horrors  of  defeat 
— not  half  the  commonplaces  of  battlefield  rhetoric 
had  rolled  off  his  tongue  when  Pagondas'  shields 
were  sighted  on  the  skyline.  His  last  words  were 
drowned  in  a  clatter  of  arms,  as  every  man  by  in- 
stinct drew  nearer  under  the  cover  of  his  neighbour's 
shield.  Even  the  wheezy  ill-conditioned  baker 
from  Peiraieus  could  feel  a  borrowed  confidence  in 
the  shelter  of  the  burly  woodman  at  his  elbow. 
Only  for  Trygaios,  Number  One  on  the  right,  there 
remained  still  a  doubt  and  a  fear.  His,  as  has  been 
said  above,  was  the  post  of  danger.  For,  though 
the  hoplite's  shield  is  large  and  covers  him  from 
chin  to  knee,  and  though  above  the  rim  of  the  shield 
there  is  solid  bronze  helmet,  and  below  the  rim  of 
the  shield  solid  bronze  greaves,  and  though  thus  it 
is  true  that  he  presents /row  the  front  an  armour  as 
impenetrable  as  a  tortoise's  shell,  yet  take  him  upon 


A  LAND  BATTLE 


67 


the  flank  and  you  may  pass  his  guard  as  easily  as  you 
scotch  a  tortoise  on  its  back.  A  light  cuirass  and 
a  kilt  of  leather  is  all  that  protects  his  vitals.  This 
is  the  reason  why  Trygaios  hardly  heard  the  trumpet 
call  and  took  no  part  in  the  trolling  of  the  War- 
hyran,  for  he  was  thinking  with  exceeding  anxiety 
how  he  might  swerve  just  so  little  to  the  right  as  to 
clear  the  extreme  shield  of  the  Boeotian  left  and 
avoid  attack  on  his  unguarded  side.  A.  little 
manoeuvring,  thought  Trygaios  to  himself,  and  he 
at  any  rate  should  not  be  the  one  to  be  outflanked. 
Oddly  enough,  Number  One  on  the  enemy's  right 
was  all  the  while  thinking  the  self-same  thoughts. 

A  last  order  down  the  line  :  the  standards  were 
hoisted  and  spears  rattled  to  the  shoulder.  A  few 
long  springing  steps  and  they  fell  to  the  couch. 
Then,  with  a  kind  of  exultant  jodel,  *  EUeleleu, 
Elleleleu,'  the  armies  sprang  to  the  shock  of  col- 
lision. The  extreme  left,  as  it  so  happened,  found 
itself  checked  by  some  stream  beds  that  had  fur- 
rowed the  plain  with  miniature  ravines,  but  the  rest 
of  the  line  closed,  like  two  bulls  that  struggle  with 
heads  down  and  horns  locked.  It  was  a  critical 
moment.  The  two  armies  pushed  and  heaved, 
swaying  this  way  and  that  in  the  breathless  grapple.^ 
Panting,  shouting,  thrusting  and  fending  thrusts, 
they  strained  and  heaved  and  strained  again ;  then  a 
thing  happened.  On  the  left  centre,  where  Pagondas 
had  purposely  massed  his  men  twenty-five  deep  to 
the  enemy's  eight,  the  weight  of  the  Theban  line 
began  to  tell.     The  Athenian  host  wavered,  broke, 

>  The  whole  business  must  have  borne  a  strong  resemblance  to  a 
football  scrum— (although  of  course  the  fighters  did  not  put  their 
heads,  down) — and  naturally  a  scrum  that  is  twenty-eight  deep  would 
get  tlie  better  of  a  scrum  of  eight. 


68 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


and  took  to  its  heels.  Even  their  right  wing, 
which  was  on  the  point  of  routing  the  Thespians 
opposite,  took  alarm  and  followed  the  rest.  The 
disaster  was  complete. 

So  long  as  the  ranks  still  held  their  ground  not  a 
man  had  flinched,  and  even  the  wounded,  if  here 
and  there  the  shield  wall  were  pierced,  had  been 
stayed  up  in  the  press.  Now  all  was  changed ;  no 
longer  was  heard  the  sound  of  labouring  fighters 
breathing  deep,  nor  the  slow  grinding  of  shield  on 
shield,  but  instead  the  sharp  cries  of  the  hunted 
hoplites,  and  the  rattle  of  shields  flung  desperately 
behind  them,  and  (with  yet  more  ominous  a  note) 
the  ring  of  bronze  helmets  as  they  met  the  stones, 
and  a  moment  after  the  thud  of  the  hard  ground 
beaten  by  the  heels  of  men,  but  that  (as  in  Homer's 
grim  saying)  '  not  for  very  long.' 

As  the  rout  swept  by,  the  cavalry  hung  upon  the 
wings  ;  least  of  all  was  Alkibiades  in  a  hurry  to 
retire  :  he  lingered  upon  the  outskirts  watching 
what  he  might  see  or  do.  Across  his  path  lay  a 
wide,  steep-banked  gully,  a  waterless  river-bed 
carved  out  by  winter  rains,  and  very  difficult  for  a 
horse  to  cross.  Now  as  he  was  picking  his  way 
from  stone  to  stone  and  leading  his  horse,  he  caught 
sight  among  a  clump  of  junipers  of  a  shield  and  under 
the  shield  a  man,  or  such  portions  of  his  person  as 
were  grudgingly  exposed  to  view.  Under  this 
cover  the  man  appeared  to  be  scrambling  to  a  place 
of  safety ;  but  at  Alkibiades'  approach  he  peered 
nervously  out,  jumped  upon  his  feet,  flung  away 
the  shield,  and  without  so  much  as  a  look  behind, 
fled  away  roaring  and  bellowing  with  all  his  lungs. 
In  an  instant  Alkibiades  had  recognised  his  stout 


A  LAND  BATTLE 


69 


countryman  Kleonymos ;  he  never  knew  the  fellow 
run  so  fast,  and  it  was  worth  the  day's  defeat,  he  said, 
to  see  the  fat  monster  leaving  the  field,  not  like  your 
wounded  hero  on  his  shield,  but  under  it.  That 
lost  shield  was  the  joke  of  the  whole  town  and  the 
butt  of  comedy  writers  for  years  to  come.  The  very 
urchins  shouted  *  DeHon  '  after  the  fat  glutton  in 
the  streets,  till  his  name  became  a  household  word 
for  cowardice. 

"^iVhen  Alkibiades  had  crossed  the  gully  and  the 
rout  had  passed  him  in  a  whirl,  a  solitary  figure 
came  in  sight,  far  behind  the  rest.  It  was  no  other 
than  his  friend  Sokrates  moving  along  without  fuss 
or  flurry,  at  a  long  swinging  stride,  the  same  pace, 
no  faster  and  no  slower,  as  he  used  in  Athens — at 
home  it  was  thought  a  trifle  vulgar  to  walk  fast, 
and  whenever  he  passed  through  the  market  he  set 
all  the  loungers  laughing  :  but  Sokrates  would  not 
bate  his  pace  for  their  mockery,  neither  would  he 
quicken  it  now  for  all  the  regiments  of  Thebes. 
His  head  was  cocked  in  the  air  in  a  comical  style,  and 
from  time  to  time,  if  an  enemy  approached,  he  threw 
over  his  shoulder  a  cautionary  glare  as  if  to  say  '  Who 
dares  to  meddle  with  me  ?  '  Unhappily  in  crossing 
the  gully  he  missed  his  footing  on  a  loose  stone,  and 
would  have  been  run  through  there  and  then  as  he 
lay,  had  not  Alkibiades  jumped  to  his  side.  He  kept 
off  the  enemy,  till  Sokrates  had  picked  himself  up, 
which  done,  he  resumed  his  retreat  with  the  same 
imperturbable  demeanour.  Alkibiades  for  his  part 
now  vaulted  on  to  his  horse's  back,  and  made  off  after 
the  rest  to  the  border  town  of  Oropus. 

Here  the  beaten  army  was  at  least  safe,  for  the 
pursuit  stopped  at  the  approach  to  the  town — but 


/ 


70  THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

behind  them  (and  here  lay  the  sting  of  the  defeat) 
hundreds  upon  hundreds  of  friends  and  kinsmen  lay 
on  the  field,  dead  and,  worse  still,  unburied.i    Now 
It  was  part  of  the  etiquette  of  warfare  that  a  truce 
should  follow  the  battle  for  the  purpose  of  burial  • 
and  the  Athenians  having  come  off  second  best 
sent  a  herald  with  the  customary  request.     Upoii 
the  way  their  enemy  met  a  Theban  messenger  com- 
ing to  demand  on  his  part  that  the  occupants  of 
Delion  who  had  profaned  Apollo's  precinct  should 
quit   Boeotian   soil.     The  Athenians,  arch-casuists 
as  they  were,  prevaricated,  declaring  that  Delion 
was  no  longer  Boeotian  soil,  since  they  themselves 
had  captured  it.     The  Thebans  sent  back  the  curt 
reply.    Quit  Boeotia,  and  then  bury  what  you  will ' 
bo  the  quibbling  argument  went  on  :    it  was  like 
wme  sophist  fencing  with  a  country  clown.      The 
Iheban    envoys    were    refuted    but    unconvinced. 
ihey  wagged  their  forefingers  in  protest  and  stuck 
to  the  point ;    neither  side  would  give  way.     And 
aU  the  while  that  the  heralds  passed  and  repassed 
between   the   camps,   the   corpses   lay  naked   and 
festering  m  the  furrows,  and  the  siege  of  Delion 
went  on.     Then  one  day  the  Thebans  invented  an 
ingenious  kind  of  fire  hose,  set  the  palisade  alight, 
and  carried  the  fort  by  storm;    thus  the  knot  was 
cut,  and  a  discreditable  squabble  ended,  the  corpses 
were  buried,  and  Phoebos  Apollo  came  by  his  own 
again.  ' 

•The  defeated  army  from  the  nature  of  the  case  lost  out  of  all  pro- 
Z?r^^  TT  ""f  ^e  victors.     One  battle  is  recorded  in  whic^the 

iororelhaniS"""'         '' """  *"  ""'''"' "'"'  ""•"  '''''"  ""'''• 


CD 


HOPLITES  ADVANCING  TO  BATTLE 

The  hoplite's  panoply  consisted  of  a  helmet  with  horse- 
hair plumes,  cuirass  of  metal  or  studded  leather,  leather 
kilt  over  linen  shirt,  short  sword  at  waist,  bronze  greaves, 
spear  six  feet  long,  and  a  shield  generally  of  hide,  and 
often  provided  with  a  leather  flap  to  protect  the  legs. 


VII.  THE  MYSTERIES  OF  ELEUSIS 

Thrice  happy  he,  who,  ere  he  dies,  that  vision  gains ;  he  knows 
The  heavenly  source  of  life  and  what  its  close. 

K.  J.  Freeman. 

*  Come,  give  me  an  answer,  Sokrates,  and  let  there 
be  no  evasions.  How  comes  it,  pray,  that  you,  who 
in  other  matters  of  rehgion  are  the  most  scrupulous 
of  men,  have  never  yet  enrolled  yourself  among  the 
number  of  the  Initiate  ? ' 

'  Softly  !  my  dear  Alkibiades,  softly  !  I  cannot 
answer  you  yet.  For  lies  it  not  with  you  rather  to 
act  teacher  to  me  and  to  convince  me  first,  that, 
by  so  doing,  I  should  be  the  gainer  ?  Do  you 
therefore  answer  my  question  and  tell  me  the  truth. 
If  you  became  the  apprentice  to  a  cobbler,  would 
it  not  be  in  the  hope  of  learning  something  new 
about  boots  and  shoes  ? ' 

*  I  could  indeed  have  no  other  reason  under  the 
sun.' 

*  Do  you  then  submit  yourself  to  the  discipline 
of  the  priests  and  those  who  profess  knowledge  in 
such  matters,  with  any  other  hope  than  to  ascertain 
something  new  about  Life  and  Death  and  things 
Divine  ?  ' 

'  That,  Sokrates,  is  just  such  a  method  of  argu- 
ment as  I  have  learnt  to  expect  from  you.  Never- 
theless I  will  yield  you  the  point,  and  admit  that 
I  have  this  hope,  and  not  this  merely,  but  that  I 
shall  learn  many  things  greatly  to  my  profit  con- 


THE  MYSTERIES  OF  ELEUSIS         73 

cerning  the  life  after  death  and  concerning  many 
other  holy  things,  which  to  reveal,  however,  would 
not  be  proper,  seeing  that  I  am  to  be  initiated  and 
you  are  not.' 

*  That  would  ?ertainly  be  neither  proper  nor 
desirable,  Alkibiades.  But  answer  me  again.  Have 
you  not  read  what  Homer  has  to  say  upon  this  topic, 
both  in  other  portions  of  his  poem,  and  where  he 
conjures  up  before  Odysseus  the  "  souls  of  many 
heroes  dead  "  ?  ' 

*  And  if  I  have,  Sokrates,  what  follows  then  ? ' 

'  Are  you  content  with  the  assurances  which  the 
poet  gives  us  that  men  do  live  after  death  ?  or,  let 
me  put  it  thus  :  would  it  be  true  to  say  that  a  life 
such  as  Homer  describes  and  in  such  a  place, 
"  shadowy  and  grim,"  where  the  souls  of  the  departed 
go  fluttering  and  gibbering  like  bats,  is  it  true,  I  say, 
that  such  a  life  appears  to  you  no  more  worth  having 
than  in  the  vulgar  phrase,  "  a  donkey's  shadow  "  ? 
What  do  you  say  ? ' 

'  By  Zeus,  that  is  just  my  feeling  !  Indeed,  I 
would  answer  in  Homer's  own  words,  "  Better  to  live 
the  serf  of  a  liege  lord  than  to  reign  king  among 
the  dead."  ' 

'  And,  O  Alkibiades,  have  you  so  soon  forgotten 
our  words  of  yesterday,  and  do  you  not  recall  how 
you  admitted,  though  loath  you  were  to  do  so,  that 
of  what  lies  beyond  the  grave  we  can  have  no  cer- 
tainty whatsoever,  but  only  hope  and  expectation  ? 
Yet  now  you  reject  the  testimony  of  Homer  and 
cheerfully  embrace  the  promises  of  the  priests, 
knowing  full  well  that  neither  they  nor  he,  nor  you, 
nor  I  have  seen  (nor  can  see,  before  the  day  of  death) 
the  facts  and  realities  of  Hades,  and  that  no  man, 


74 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


except  in  fables,  has  ever  visited  and  brought  back 
news  of  those  regions,  concerning  which  these 
priests  of  yours  so  confidently  affirm  such  and  such 
things  ? ' 

*  When,  Sokrates,  I  have  returned  from  Eleusis, 
maybe  I  will  answer  your  question — and  maybe  I 
will  not.' 

And  with  that,  leaving  the  imperturbable  old 
free-thinker  to  the  happy  contemplation  of  his  own 
self-taught  creed,  Alkibiades  departed. 

Now  just  as  great  a  danger  (though  it  escaped  the 
notice  of  that  shallow  fellow,  the  maker  of  proverbs) 
lies  in  too  great  a  fund  of  knowledge  as  in  too  little. 
The  philosopher  sifting  the  problems  of  the  religious 
truth  is  repelled  by  the  husk  and  misses  the  core. 
The  cheerful  fool  may  swallow  both,  and  the 
Mysteries,  half  savage  survival  of  a  seed-time 
ritual,  half  the  vague  imaginings  of  a  profound 
mystical  instinct,  contained  beyond  all  doubt  a  core 
of  truth  concerning  the  immortal  soul.  That  the 
pagan  world,  reading  a  simple  parable  in  the  passing 
and  recurrence  of  the  seasons,  should  have  plunged, 
year  by  year,  at  autumn,  into  a  brief  ecstasy  of  im- 
pulsive adoration  towards  the  great  Earth-Mother, 
and  out  of  all  the  hocus-pocus  of  her  Mysteries 
caught  wistfully  the  shadow  of  a  hope,  and  a 
dark  hint,  if  no  more,  of  the  tremendous  secret, 
may  seem  strangely  foreign  to  our  modern  minds, 
but  it  is  no  more  than  the  truth.  For  the  hearts 
of  the  people  craved  for  something  which  the 
orthodox  religion  of  the  day  could  never  give. 
The  national  theology  appealed  to  intellect,  Hterary 
imagination  and  patriotic  ardour,  rather  than  to  the 
more  elemental  feeUngs.     The  lofty  instinct  of  their 


THE  MYSTERIES  OF  ELEUSIS        75 

poets  had  purged  it  of  grosser  and  merely  popular 
elements ;  the  subtle  philosophy  of  their  thinkers 
had  ennobled  it,  raising  it  clear  above  the  level  of 
vague  superstitious  emotions ;  the  state,  too,  with 
its  love  for  the  clear-cut  and  definite,  had  moulded 
it  by  strict  canons  and  empty  formalities.  And 
yet  in  this  process  of  refinement  something  had 
been  lost.  Zeus,  Apollo,  Hermes  and  Athena  were 
well  enough  for  pompous  ceremonials ;  but  little 
might  they  reck,  sitting  aloft  on  their  Olympian 
pedestals,  of  the  innermost  conflict  and  passionate 
yearnings  of  simple  human  souls.  To  such,  these 
high  abstractions  of  Wisdom,  Justice,  Poetry  and 
Art  must  have  seemed  at  best  cold  and  condescending 
divinities ;  as  well  seek  private  consolation  from  the 
Sphinx  herself.  So,  just  as  the  faltering  faith  of  the 
mediaeval  peasant  had  recourse  to  the  magical 
virtues  of  the  Boxford  Crucifix  or  Our  Lady  of 
This  or  That,  the  Greek  in  his  sorrows  or  perplexities 
would  turn  perhaps  to  the  homely  image  of  some 
rustic  shrine,  dignified  maybe  by  the  high-sound- 
ing title  of  Athena,  Zeus  or  Aphrodite,  but  in 
reality  taking  its  origin  from  some  local  superstition 
infinitely  old,  and  linked,  as  often  as  not,  with 
strange  barbaric  rites.  But  more  and  more  did 
they  turn,  as  time  went  on,  to  the  more  mysterious 
attraction  of  those  wild  ecstatic  cults  of  Sabazios, 
Dionysos,  the  prophet  Orpheus  and  the  rest,  which 
came  to  Greece  nobody  knows  how,  and  sent  men 
and  women  revelling  and  hymn-singing  through 
the  woods  and  countryside.  Worshipped  at  first 
in  private  by  select  and  privileged  bands,  these 
new  gods  became  gradually  linked  with  the  more 
orthiodox  beliefs ;    and  thus  regularised,  their  rites 


!(> 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


mi 


took  a  place  among  the  other  ceremonials  of  the 
puMic  calendar,  offering  at  due  seasons  a  useful 
outlet  to  pent-up  emotions,  and  easing  the  burdened 
soul  of  its  half-felt  consciousness  of  sin.^ 

In  short,  it  was  the  fashion  of  all  cultured 
Athenians  at  least  to  make  the  journey  to  Eleusis. 
So  it  was  that  Alkibiades  with  a  conventional  com- 
plaisance and  in  a  keenly  inquisitive  frame  of  mind, 
became  a  candidate  for  initiation.  Shortly  after, 
as  his  custom  was,  he  turned  the  whole  thing  to 
ridicule. 

There  would  not  be  space  here  to  describe  at 
length  (even  from  our  most  imperfect  knowledge) 
the  wearisome  prehminaries.     They  were  long,  for 
initiation  was  a  solemn  matter  and  not  lightly  to  be 
undertaken.     It    cost    more    than    a    twelve-mile 
tramp  to  Eleusis.     For  many  months  previous  the 
candidate  must  undergo  an  arduous  probation,  pass 
tedious  hours  hstening  to  ghostly  admonition  and 
submit   to  humihating  scrutiny.     For   many  days 
he  must  curb   his  appetites   and  regulate  his   diet 
with  all  the  scruple  of  a  Jew.     The  flesh  of  domestic 
animals  was  by  a  strict  rule  denied  him  ;  he  might 
touch  neither  pomegranate  nor  bean.     This  and 
much  else  there  was  to  puzzle  and  perhaps  disgust 
a  man,  before  he  might  enter  upon  the  full  state  of 
blessedness,  and  in  crowning  revelation  know  the 
joys  of  the  Elect.     During  spring  a  foretaste  came 
in  the  local  celebrations  at  Agrae  close  to  the  city, 

»  True,  the  purity  demanded  of  the  Initiated  was  a  ceremonial  rather 
than  a  moral  purity.  But  it  is  not  fanciful  to  trace  in  these  mystic 
rites  (particularly  in  those  introduced  from  the  East  at  a  later  date  I 


mean,  the  rites  of  Isis  and  Mithras)  the  presence  of  a  self-dissatisfaction 
which  is  wholly  foreign  to  normal  Greek  religion,  ar  " 
prepare  the  way  for  the  coming  of  Christianity  itself. 


THE  MYSTERIES  OF  ELEUSIS         77 

and  in  autumn,  about  the  month  of  September,  the 
great  Days  arrived.  On  the  first  of  those  days  and 
early  in  the  morning,  there  was  held  a  solemn 
assembly  in  the  market-place.  A  proclamation  was 
read  banning  all  but  those  of  the  clean  hand  and 
the  pure  heart  from  participation  in  the  festival. 
Secrecy  was  very  rigorously  enjoined  on  all,  under 
penalty  of  death. ^  Then  they  dispersed  until  the 
morrow,  when  the  opening  ceremony  took  place. 
This  was  a  quaint  and  even  laughable  affair.  Each 
man  took  himself  a  small  black  pig  (great  care  must 
be  given  that  the  pig  shall  show  no  blemish  and,  in 
particular,  shall  not  be  wanting  a  tail).  With  the 
pigs,  or  may  we  say,  the  scape-pigs  under  their 
arms,  the  whole  body  of  devotees  passed  with  a  cry 
of  '  Sea- wards !  Sea-wards  ! '  down  to  the  neighbour- 
ing shore,  where  they  dipped,  themselves  and  their 
animals,  under  the  cleansing  waters,  and  rose  with 
their  bodies  purged  of  the  pollutions  of  the  flesh 
and  their  spirits  divested  of  the  slough  of  this 
mortality.  Next  day  the  pigs  lost  their  lives  ;  and 
when  the  sun  rose  a  second  time  it  found  a  busy 
scene  in  the  market  square. 

Once  more  they  were  gathering,  clothed  now  in 
short  white  tunics,  crowned  with  myrtle,  and  carry- 
ing in  the  hand  an  unlighted  torch.  When  all  was 
ready,  ranks  were  formed  and  they  filed  down,  men 
and  women,  a  long  and  silent  column,  towards  the 
Double  gate.  Ahead  went  the  image  of  the  infant 
Bacchos,  at  its  side  walked  the  Bacchos  Warden, 
the  High  Priest,  the  Chief  Torch-bearer,  while 
others  of   more  or  less  honourable  degree  carried 

1  So  well  was  the  secret  kept  that,  like  the  mystery  of  the  masonic 
brothcThood,  it  has  never  been  fully  rerealed. 


78 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


close  in  the  rear  the  emblems  of  the  god,  his  cradle, 
his  childish  toys,  and,  in  token  of  their  harvest  hopes, 
a  winnowing  fan  of  monstrous  size.  Outside  the 
gate  they  formed  up  again,  and  then  directly  they 
set  foot  upon  the  Sacred  Way,  they  burst  out,  with 
a  capering  of  legs  and  a  swaying  of  arms  and  bodies 
in  the  air,  into  their  first  ecstatic  chorus :  ^ 

*  O  lacchos,  power  excelling, 
Here  in  stately  temples  dwelling, 
O  lacchos !     O  lacchos ! 
Come  to  tread  this  verdant  level. 
Come  to  dance  in  mystic  revel. 
Come  whilst  round  thy  forehead  hurtles 
Many  a  wreath  of  fruitful  myrtles. 
Come  with  wild  and  saucy  paces 
Mingling  in  our  joyous  dance. 

Pure  and  holy,  which  embraces 
All  the  charms  of  all  the  graces 
When  the  mystic  choirs  advance. 

Come,  arise,  from  sleep  awaking. 

Come  the  fiery  torches  shaking, 

O  lacchos !     O  lacchos ! 

Morning  Star  that  shinest  rightly, 

Lo,  the  mead  is  shining  brightly. 

Age  forgets  its  years  and  sadness. 

Aged  knees  curvet  for  gladness. 

Lift  thy  flashing  torches  o'er  us. 

Marshal  all  thy  blameless  train, 

Lead,  O  lead  thy  way  before  us. 
Lead  the  lovely  youthful  chorus 

To  the  marshy  flowery  plain.* 

Thus  singing  they  departed  in  a  whirl  of  dust. 
The  first  stage  of  the  journey  lay  direct  and  level 

1  The  Hymn,  which  Aristophanes  in  the  Frogs  puts  into  the  mouth 
of  his  chorus  of  Mystae,  must  serve  to  reproduce  the  spirit  of  the  song. 
Translation  by  Rogers. 


THE  MYSTERIES  OF  ELEUSIS        79 

across  the  plain,  the  white  road  plunging  almost 
immediately  under  the  shadow  and  hoary  shimmer 
of  the  olives.  On  either  side  of  the  road  the  trees 
stood  back,  rank  behind  rank,  a  well-ordered  army 
of  wrinkled,  distorted  veterans.  From  the  banks 
and  open  spaces  beneath  the  branching  trunks, 
wherever  the  plough  had  not  yet  passed,  there  shone 
a  sprinkling  of  wild  flowers,  not  in  a  great  profusion, 
but  singly  or  in  rare  clusters  like  stars ;  the  autumn 
crocus  and  tall  spiky  sprays  of  withered  asphodel. 
Mile  after  mile  they  threaded  their  way  through  this 
pale,  mysterious  orchard-land,  only  stopping  here 
and  there  for  some  ceremony  at  a  roadside  shrine. 
So  frequent  were  these  halts,  however,  that,  though 
the  distance  covered  was  a  bare  six  miles,  it  was 
dusk  when  they  left  the  plain  behind,  and  struck  up 
the  mountain  side.  Aigaleos — to  give  the  hill  its 
name — thrusts  its  ridge  between  Athens  and  Eleusis, 
parting  plain  from  plain.  And  as  the  procession 
wound  slowly  up  its  side  and  the  torches  were  lit, 
down  in  the  city  they  could  see  answering  lights 
spring  up,  one  by  one,  out  of  the  twilight ;  for 
those  who  remained  behind  made  it  a  custom  to 
set  up  torches  outside  their  own  street  doors ; 
others  indeed,  being  more  inquisitive  (and  these 
were  in  general  strangers  come  purposely  to  see  the 
sight)  had  followed  in  the  wake  of  the  procession, 
some  in  carriages,  some  on  foot.  But  the  citizens 
for  the  most  part  were  content  to  mount  to  their 
roof-tops  and  watch  the  line  of  lights  as  it  went 
flickering  and  dancing  up  the  distant  mountain 
like  a  swarm  of  fire-flies,  and  to  catch  the  sound 
of  the  singing,  as  chorus  after  chorus  rolled  faintly 
back. 


'ii 


J 


^ 


80  THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

At  the  top  of  Aigaleos,  in  a  lonely  pass  among  the 
pines,    another    halt    was    called.     Here    stood    a 
chapel  sacred  to  Aphrodite,  and  prayers  were  duly 
addressed    and   libations    offered   to    the    goddess, 
before  the  descent  began.     They  dropped  down 
now  towards  the  narrow  frith  of  water  which  divides 
the  mainland  from  the  hills  of  Salamis.     The  descent 
was  short,  and  once  they  reached  the  barren  and 
marish  shore,  the  road  swung  sharply  to  the  right 
and  skirted  the  rippUng  margin  of  the  wide  bay. 
Here  by  some  salt  lagoons  that  He  between  shore 
and  mountain,  they  were  met  by  a  band  of  priests, 
the  ancient  Order  of  Krokon,  whose  part  it  was  by 
immemorial  custom  to  welcome  the  procession  on 
the  borders  of  Eleusinian  soil,  and  decorate  the  pil- 
grims, binding  a  yellow  riband  about  the  right  wrist 
and  right  ankle  of  each.     Eleusis  was  still  some  three 
miles  distant,  but  its  lights  were  now  to  be  seen 
burning  steadily  across  the   bay,  and  as  the  Une 
was  once  more  set  in  motion,  the  song  was  taken 
up  again.     The  step  of  the  dance  grew  wilder  at 
the  sight ;  hearts  beat  quicker  ;    for  the  pilgrims 
were  close  upon  their  goal.     The  spell  of  circum- 
stance was  working  ;  the  influence  of  the  long  day's 
march,  the  exhaustion  of  a  continued  fast,  the  wild 
music   and  the  still  magic   of  the   autumn  night, 
came   strongly  over   them,  till   as   they   thronged 
through  the  gateway  into  the  blaze  of  the  temple 
court,  there  came  into  their  hearts  a  strange  excite- 
ment, a  blind  exultant  worship  of  they  knew  not 

what. 

It  was  upon  the  second  evening,  after  a  day's 
interval  of  sacrifice  and  preparation,  that  the  great 
Rites  fell.     At  sundown  they  wandered  with  loud 


THE  MYSTERIES  OF  ELEUSIS 


81 


lamentations  up  and  down  the  shore,  the  very  spot, 
as  legend  said,  where  Demeter  herself  had  once  so 
wandered,  lamenting  her  lost  child.  And  then  at 
the  appointed  hour  they  forgathered,  fennel-wand 
in  hand,  within  the  great  HaU  of  the  Mysteries. 
To  the  mass  of  them  it  was  no  new  adventure. 
Many  and  many  a  time  in  years  gone  by  they 
had  witnessed  the  ritual  drama,  or  scenic  mystery, 
which  presented  and  enforced  (whether  by  the 
sanctity  of  legend,  or  symbolically,  from  the  fertile 
energies  of  nature)  a  pale  metaphor,  as  it  were,  of 
the  future  life.  Yet  it  was  hard  for  them  to  shake 
off  the  fear  of  doubtful  things,  and  that  terror  of 
the  outer  darkness  that  weighed  heavy  on  the  pagan 
spirit.  They  came  again,  therefore,  craving  a  fresh 
lease  of  certitude.  But  to  the  novice,  such  as  was 
Alkibiades,  it  was  something  altogether  new  and 
deeply  stirring.  He  had  already  received,  so  to 
say,  his  baptism  (when  and  where  we  do  not  know). 
He  had  sat  upon  a  stool,  his  head  and  figure  en- 
veloped in  a  white  shroud.  He  had  heard  a  priest 
behind  him  muttering  incantations  in  odd,  un- 
familiar phrases ;  ^  he  had  felt  the  holy  flour  poured 
by  an  unseen  hand  over  his  head,  and  had  been  led 
out  to  do  sacrifice  at  the  altar.  Thus  perfected, 
it  was  his  privilege  now  to  enter  with  the  rest  the 
great  illuminated  hall.  It  must  have  been  a  man 
of  sluggish  temper  who  would  not  at  such  a  moment 
be  moved  to  an  almost  insupportable  emotion. 
Many  indeed  gave  vent  to  their  distress  by  groan- 
ing dismally  like  tortured  souls  at  a  revival 
meeting.     The  novice  had   been  told   to   expect 


*  Among  the  mysterious  sayings  attributed  to  the  liturgy  were 
two  unintelligible  words  *  Konx,  Ompax.* 


the 


82 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


111 


\i 


here  the  fullest  of  revelations,  and  to  await  the 
drawing  of  the  veil.  That  veil  was  now  to  be 
drawn  back. 

Scarcely  had  they  eaten  of  the  ^  Sacred  Cake,' 
breaking  their  fast  for  the  first  time  that  day,  and 
drinking  with  it  the  blessed  elixir  (known  as 
Kykeios),  when  on  a  sudden  all  the  Ughts  were 
simultaneously  extinguished.  A  voice  out  of  the 
darkness  began  to  chant  in  musical  tones  a  queer 
Uturgical  jargon ;  the  form  of  this  the  novice  had 
already  got  by  heart.  He  was  able,  therefore, 
when  the  responses  were  made,  to  add  his  voice 
to  the  rest,  and  to  repeat  with  proud  conviction, 
*  I  have  fed  from  the  timbrel ;  I  have  drunk  from 
the  cymbal.' 

No  sooner  was  this  said  than  a  flash  of  light  from 
the  roof  illuminated  a  species  of  stage  at  the  ex- 
tremity of  the  hall.  The  apparition  of  a  figure,  in 
stature  greater  than  man,  seated  upon  a  winged 
chariot  and  surrounded  by  writhing  serpents, 
showed  for  an  instant  and  then  was  gone.  The 
spectre  was  clearly  seen  and  recognised  by  all.  It 
was  Triptolemos,  a  divine  being  closely  linked  with 
the  worship  of  the  great  Mother.  Then  in  the  dark- 
ness there  were  more  voices,  words  of  exhortation 
and  texts  interpreting  the  vision,  and  then  again 
another  tableau,  a  presentation  of  the  Sacred 
Marriage,  which  came  and  was  gone  in  a  flash  as  the 
first  had  done.  This  procedure  continued  for  some 
while,  till  at  last  after  a  series  of  such  visions  of 
the  under-world  the  High  Priest  appeared  clad 
in  a  robe  of  great  magnificence,  all  patterns  and 
embroideries,  and  the  crowd  witnessed  with  breath- 
less wonder  the  monstrance  of  the  Sacred  Wheat 


THE  MYSTERIES  OF  ELEUSIS 


83 


Ear,  symbol   of  the  Hfe  which  *  is  not  quickened 
except  we  die.'     That  was  the  closing  scene  and  all 


was  over. 


Next  day  the  procession  was  led  home  in  a  sober 
and  chastened  mood.  They  were  met  at  the 
Kephisos  bridge  by  a  party  of  their  friends  who  had 
remained  behind  in  Athens,  and  who  now  came  out 
with  masks  over  their  heads  to  see  the  Mystety 
Marchers  home.  There  was  an  ancient  custom 
(and,  since  these  three  days  of  tense  sustained  emotion 
called  for  some  such  antidote,  a  sane  and  healthy 
custom)  by  which  the  pilgrims  were  welcomed  back 
with  all  manner  of  rough  humour  and  boisterous 
merriment.  Coarse  jokes  were  bandied.  A  favour- 
ite butt  was  the  '  Mystery  moke,'  on  the  back 
of  which  the  sacred  properties  were  carried.  It 
was  also  a  never-failing  jest  to  sniff  the  air  and 
affect  to  discover  a  strong  smell  of  roasted  pork. 
In  the  tired  pilgrim  this  cheerful  nonsense  worked 
a  quick  and  salutary  reaction,  such  as  is  felt  when 
in  the  theatre  a  comic  piece  succeeds  the  gloomy 
sequence  of  tragedies.  The  relief  was  welcome,  and 
they  entered  gladly  into  the  spirit  of  the  fun. 
Outside  the  Double  gate  a  last  ceremony  was 
enacted.  Two  jars  of  water  were  solemnly  poured 
upon  the  ground,  the  whole  company  dancing  wildly 
round  and  shouting 

*  Rain  flow, 
Crop  grow.* 

In  this  manner  the  procession,  which  had  set  out 
so  solemn  and  serious,  was  returning  to  the  city  as 
gay  and  giddy  as  a  carnival,  and  Alkibiades  was 
departing  to  repair  his  long  deficiencies  of  diet  by 


Ill 


j.f!} 


If 


^ 


84 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


a  convivial  evening  when  in  the  road  he  encountered 

Sokrates. 

'  I  am  on  my  way,'  the  philosopher  explained,  *  to 
visit  a  friend  who  is  mortally  stricken  with  a  plague. 
Will  you  not  bear  me  company  ?  ' 

'  Surely  you  are  mad,'  repUed  the  young  man  with 
some  impatience,  ^  or  do  you  speak  in  jest  ?  I  set 
some  value  upon  that  paltry  thing  my  life.' 

'  To  be  sure,'  said  the  sage,  '  and  yet  is  it  not 
strange,  my  friend,  that  I  who  have  no  knowledge 
and  pretend  to  none,  concerning  this  mystery  of 
death,  will  yet  make  bold  to  meet  it,  whensoever 
the  God  wills,  without  flinching  and  without 
regret ;  while  you  who  boast  yourselves  to  have  such 
knowledge,  and  that  not  by  way  of  guesswork  or  of 
pious  speculation,  but  with  the  certitude  of  full 
conviction,  you  are  not  ashamed  to  play  the  coward 
in  the  face  of  danger,  nor  to  stand  guilty  of  confessed 
hypocrisy  ?  When  I  wonder  at  this,  as  in  truth  I 
do  wonder,  there  comes  to  my  mind  an  old  saying, 
which  I  think  is  not  ill  said,  "  Many  bear  the  fennel,^ 
but  few  find  the  truth." ' 

,.♦••• 

Before  the  year  was  out,  Alkibiades  had  by  a  deUb- 
erate  act  insulted  and  profaned  the  Mysteries  by 
engaging  at  a  friend's  house  in  an  irreverent  and 
outrageous  parody.  It  cost  him  dear,  for  it  was  on 
this  account,  if  not  wholly,  at  least  in  part,  that  he 
was  banished.  Yet  by  an  ironical  trick  of  fate,  it 
fell  to  his  lot  at  a  later  time  to  turn  the  tables  once 
more,  and  to  restore  to  Athens  the  just  celebration 
of  the  ceremony.  The  city  was  hard  pressed  at  the 
time ;   the  Spartans  had  built  and  occupied  a  fort 

1  The  fcnncl-wand  was  carried  by  all  the  pilgrims. 


THE  MYSTERIES  OF  ELEUSIS        85 

on  the  neighbouring  hills,  for  fear  of  which  the 
annual  procession  was  abandoned,  and  the  pilgrims 
went  by  sea.  Alkibiades,  upon  his  return,  set  his 
face  against  such  a  humiUation,  and  under  a  strong 
escort  of  armed  men,  he  led  out  the  band  of  Mystae 
once  again  by  the  appointed  route  along  the  Sacred 
Way. 


f 


11! 


I 
I 


if 


1'  S 


%  r  I 
■ 


i\ 


-!■? 


THE  SACRED  WAY 

The  Sacred  Way  is  here  descending  the  western  slope  of 
Mt.  Aigaleos.  Over  the  pine-woods  is  Salamis,  and  across 
the  bay  to  the  right,  Elcusis.  The  ruins  of  Aphrodite's 
Chapel  lie  in  the  foreground. 


< 


u 

< 


f  f! 


ii 

II 

I  ! 


/'. 


VIII.  A  DINNER-PARTY 

How  came  I  hither  ?  whence  ?  and  why  ? 

Came  but  to  be  going — 
Yet,  if  my  wisdom's  sum  is  naught, 

Can  aught  be  worth  knowing  ? 
For  all  mortality  is  less 
Than  nothing  is  or  nothingness. 

Bom  of  nothing,  back  to  naught 

I  must  turn  hereafter — 
So  up  and  fill  me  Bacchos'  cup, 

True  friend  to  honest  laughter. 
For  cares  within  and  cares  without 
Wine  's  the  sovran'st  antidote. 

(From  an  unknown  Greek  Author.) 

KiNESiAS,  the  dancing-master,  was  pacing  up  and 
down  in  the  Painted  Colonnade.  It  was  the  time 
of  full  market :  and  it  was  fashionable  to  stroll  there 
at  that  hour.  Now  if  Kinesias  had  a  foible,  it  was 
a  desire  to  be  seen  in  company  with  men  of  fashion. 
So  he  often  walked  in  this  place  of  a  morning,  and 
though  he  had  but  one  slave  in  the  world,  that  slave 
always  attended  him.  To-day  he  had  not  taken 
above  twenty  turns  this  way  and  that,  when  Pulytion 
came  up  behind  and,  plucking  him  by  the  cloak, 
invited  him  to  dinner.  The  dancing-master  was 
vastly  flattered  by  his  courtesy  (for  was  not  Pulytion 
a  man  of  society  and  a  friend  of  Alkibiades  to  boot  ?). 
But  in  the  embarrassment  of  the  moment  he  lost 
his  wits  and  quite  forgot  his  manners.  '  The  best 
of  health,  sir  ! '  he  began  in  a  flurry,  and  the  instant 
after  could  have  bitten  out  his  tongue  for  shame. 


88 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


A  DINNER-PARTY 


89 


I 


For  though  this  was  the  fashionable  formula  for 
bidding  a  friend  adieu,  as  a  greeting  it  was  ludi- 
crously out  of  place.^  The  poor  fellow's  distress 
was  pitiful.  But  Pulytion  took  no  advantage  of  the 
gaucherie,  and  passing  it  off  with  a  laugh,  left  Kinesias 
quite  at  his  ease,  and  as  proud  as  Punch  at  this 
prospect  of  dining  with  the  great. 

Yet  see  how  a  pleasure  may  be  marred,  above  all 
for  a  petty  nature,  by  some  mean  consideration  of 
economy.  It  was  the  mode  just  then,  as  Kinesias 
recollected,  to  appear  at  supper  in  canary-coloured 
slippers.  Such  slippers  he  did  not  possess,  and 
being  poor  he  had  no  thought  of  buying.  So  he 
began  to  be  very  miserable  ;  and  from  that  moment 
a  doubt  obsessed  his  mind,  whether,  after  all, 
Pulytion  were  not  quizzing  him. 

The  dancing-master  was  indeed  not  ill-designed 
for  ridicule,  being  a  small  sort  of  man,  with  narrow 
beady  eyes  that  squinted,  and  a  short  black  beard 
with  a  prominent  point  that   poked  out  under  an 
equally  sharp  little  nose.     In  figure  he  was  under- 
fed and  insi'gnificant,  yet  so  vain  that  he  suffered 
great  distress  on  account  of  his  skinny  arms  and 
kept  them,  whenever  possible,  under  the  folds  of 
the  cloak,  which  he  also  wore  very  long  purposely 
to  hide  his  legs.     It  was  popular  gossip  that  he  would 
never   undress  except  when   the  wrestling-ground 
was  empty.     In  short,  he  was  notoriously  of  a  furtive 
and  ungenerous  disposition,  and  he  now  sent  off 
his  slave  with  some  plausible  tale,  and  borrowed 
the  canary-coloured  slippers  from  a  neighbour. 
Pulytion's  house  lay  near  the  Double  gate,  and 

*  vylaive :   cp.  *  Look   after  yourself/     Theophrastos   mentions  an 
awkward  man  who  made  a  habit  of  this  error. 


I 

I 


Kinesias'  way  thither  took  him  down  a  dark  and 
ill-kept  alley,  full  of  holes  and  pitfalls.  Down  this 
he  went  at  the  hour  of  sunset,  picking  his  way  deU- 
cately  in  fear  for  his  borrowed  shoes.  As  he  had 
just  bathed,  he  was  well  oiled  and  smelt  abominably 
of  cheap  oriental  perfume.  His  cloak,  which  was 
his  best,  had  a  purple  border,  and  since  he  was 
exceedingly  proud  of  this,  and  since  there  was 
nobody  about,  he  carried  it  tucked  up  to  the  level 
of  his  knees.  It  was  well  he  did  so,  for  as  he  passed 
under  the  walls  of  a  disreputable  tavern  there  came 
out  of  the  doorway,  quite  suddenly  and  without 
warning,  a  whole  bucketful  of  foul,  sHmy  water, 
and  there  were  his  new  slippers  drenched  with  filth. 
This  was  past  endurance,  and  Kinesias  stopped  to  take 
the  wench  to  task  for  her  carelessness  and  scold  her 
for  never  crying  out  the  customary  '  gardy-loo.'  ^ 
But  as  he  bent  down  to  examine  his  shoes  he  caught 
sight  of  Alkibiades  coming  up  the  street  behind  him. 
And  not  wishing  to  appear  before  the  great  man  in 
so  undignified  a  posture,  he  hurried  on  and  passed 
out  into  the  Kerameikos  and  so  to  Pulytion's 
door. 

He  was  late.  The  other  guests  had  one  by  one 
entered  the  room  where  seven  long  low  couches 
were  set  out.  As  they  entered  there  came  with 
them  a  fragrance  of  rich  unguent,  which  mingled 
there  with  the  smell  of  earthenware  oil  lamps 
spluttering  fitfully  in  the  niches  round  the  wall. 
The  illumination  was  not  brilliant ;  and  it  was 
thanks  to  this  deficiency  of  light  that  when  Kinesias 
took  his  place  and  a  slave  removed  his  slippers,  no 

*  The  old  English  corruption  for  *  gardez  I'cau.'    The  Greek  phrase 
meant  *  stand  aside.' 


90 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


notice  was  taken  of  their  soiled  condition.  He  felt 
some  small  satisfaction  at  this,  but  it  was  brief, 
and  his  fall  was  of  his  own  bringing. 

When  he  had  arrived,  the  other  guests  had  already 
paired  off  each  with  a  partner  (they  were  all  men  : 
for  no  lady  appeared  at  these  dinners),  and  had  lain 
down  two  by  two  upon  the  couches,  so  that  no  * 
choice  was  left  for  the  late-comer  but  to  take  the 
worst  couch — that  farthest  from  his  host — and, 
since  one  of  the  invited  guests  had  failed,  he  was 
without  a  partner  to  share  it.  His  nearest  neigh- 
bour, it  so  happened,  was  one  Philippos,  a  profes- 
sional jester  brought  in  by  a  friend  to  fill  a  vacant 
place  and  entertain  the  company  with  his  witty 
sayings.  When  water  basins  were  brought  round 
for  the  diners  to  wash  their  hands,  this  wag  seized 
the  opportunity  and  asked  the  company  in  his 
humorous  way,  '  What  is  the  favourite  water  with 
the  hungry  man  ?  '  Now  though  this  was  a  trite 
enough  riddle,  and  though  one  declared  that  he  had 
heard  it  but  yesterday,  and  another  vowed  it  was 
as  old  as  lapetos,  yet  nobody,  as  is  usual  on  these 
occasions,  could  recollect  the  answer,  till  Kinesias, 
thinking  to  score  a  point,  cried  out,  ^  I  have  it — 
the  wash-hand  water  which  precedes  a  meal.'  At 
these  words  there  came  an  answering  peal  of  laughter 
from  the  farther  end  of  the  room,  and  there  was 
Alkibiades  standing  in  the  doorway,  scarcely  able 
to  speak  for  merriment.  He  took  the  vacant  seat 
beside  Kinesias  and,  as  he  did  so,  he  gave  him  a 
knowing  nod  and  said,  ^  Aye,  wash-hand  water,  sir, 
got  where  you  will — but  not  at  an  inn,  my  friend, 
not  at  an  inn ! '  And  the  whole  story  came  out, 
the  miserable  little  man  sitting  by  and  laughing 


^ 


A  DINNER-PARTY 


91 


nervously  in  ill-concealed  discomfort.    His  evening's 
pleasure  was  spoiled. 

Nor  for  that  matter  was  the  master  of  the  house 
more  manifestly  at  his  ease.  Alkibiades'  presence 
was  not  an  honour  he  had  counted  on.  The  meal 
provided  was  no  more  than  second-rate.  There 
was  barley  broth,  Phaleric  pilchards,  and  as  a  make- 
weight a  black  pudding.  Had  he  only  known 
Alkibiades'  intention,  his  steward  should  have  gone 
to  market  for  a  dish  of  eels ;  his  country  bailiff 
should  have  sent  in  some  fieldfares  or  a  leveret 
from  the  farm ;  he  might  even  have  engaged  a 
Sicilian  chef  for  the  evening.  As  it  was,  he  called 
the  butler  to  his  side  and  whispered  to  him  to  keep 
the  Euboean  wine  back — for  that  is  a  sour  brand 
which,  owing  to  an  evil  habit  they  have  of  preserv- 
ing it  with  resin,  leaves  a  wry  taste  in  the  mouth — 
and  bade  him  to  serve  instead  a  jar  of  fragrant 
Thasian  or,  better  still,  to  borrow  a  little  Chian 
from  next  door.  All  this  Alkibiades  was  not  slow 
to  perceive,  and  rising  from  the  couch  he  began 
to  apologise  for  his  ill-timed  visit.  *  Never  ask 
pardon,  dear  friend,'  Pulytion  replied,  '  thou  art 
raiore  than  welcome,  though  it  is  simple  fare. 
There  is  a  place  set  and  we  '11  see  thee  fill  it,  and 
count  ourselves  the  gainers.  Besides,  'tis  an  old 
saw  and  truly  said,  "  To  the  feasts  of  the  lesser  the 
good  go  unbid."  '  Alkibiades  laughingly  kissed  his 
hand  to  the  flatterer  and  climbed  back  on  to  the 
couch. 

The  viands  were  now  coming  in.  They  were  set 
out  upon  tables,  which  the  slaves  brought  in  at  the 
door.  These  were  about  the  size  of  a  stool,  and 
since  no  Greek  ever  sat  to  eat  with  his  knees  under 


92 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


A  DINNER-PARTY 


93 


I 


a  table,  they  were  put  down  at  the  side  of  the  couch, 
one  apiece  for  each  of  the  guests  who  now  set  to 
with  ladles  modelled  from  dough  to  swallow  the 
barley  broth.     The  meal  was  not  large,  the  Greeks 
never  being  other  than  small  eaters,  and  regarding 
with  horror  the  athlete  who  dined  upon  a  joint. 
The  fare,  simple  as  it  might  be,  was  eked  out  with 
plenty  of  cheerful  talk ;   and  besides,  to  do  honour 
to  the  new  guest,  the  cook  had  devised  a  special 
dish,  and  a  savoury  was  brought  in  compounded  of 
cheese,  goats'  milk  and  eggs,  sweetened  with  honey 
— for  sugar  was  then  unknown — and  served  up  in 
a  fig-leaf  wrapper.     When  this  was  finished,   the 
fingers,  which  during  the  meal  had  done  duty  for 
both  knife  and  fork,  were  carefully  wiped  upon  a  lump 
of  bread,  which  was  then  politely  thrown  upon  the 
floor.     This  was' a  signal  for  the  host  to  call  in  the 
slaves    once    more.     Pardokas — queer   names    these 
foreign  slaves  rejoice  in  ! — was  told  off  to  bear  the 
washing-basin  round  with  a  napkin  and  some  soap, 
Skablyas  carried  off  the  tables ;  while  a  third  arrived 
with  a  fresh  set  on  which  olives  and  nuts  were  laid. 
At  the  same  time  a  flute  girl  entered  and  handed 
to  each  guest  a  wreath  of  myrtle  for  his  head.     Then 
a  tune  was  struck  up.     Pulytion  took  a  great  bumper 
of  neat  wine  in  his  hands,  and  calling  upon  the  God 
of  Good  Chance,  he  tipped  it  up  with  a  ceremonious 
gesture  and  spilled  a  few  drops  upon  the  floor.     The 
rest  chanted  a  verse  by  way  of  grace  after  meat ; 
and  the  great  bowl  passed  from  hand  to  hand,  each 
taking  a  sip  from  the  '  Cup  of  Kindness,'  and  the  fun 
of  the  night  began. 

The  slaves,  who  had  meanwhile  made  haste  to 
serve  out  cups,  now  placed  before  Pulytion  a  huge 


mixing  bowl.  This  bowl  was  a  lovely  piece  of 
painted  ware.  It  stood  a  full  foot  from  base  to  rim 
and  a  rout  of  satyrs  chase  white-faced  maidens 
round  the  ample  frieze  of  it.  The  cups,  too,  were 
of  earthenware,  wide  and  shallow  as  saucers,  and 
in  the  centre  of  each  some  figure  was  delicately 
picked    out    with    black    lustre   upon    the   tawny 

ground. 

Before,  however,  these  cups  were  to  be  filled,  the 
dice  were  brought  and  each  guest  made  his  throw. 
Alkibiades,  in  merit  of  throwing  two  sixes  and  a  three, 
was  declared  winner  and  took  command  as  Lord  of 
the  Feast.  *  Two  and  one  '  was  his  first  order,  and 
at  the  word  the  butler  poured  in  water  chilled  with 
snow,  until  the  bowl  was  two  parts  full ;  he  then 
broached  a  jar  and  emptied  in  a  rich  syrup  of  sticky 
red  wine.  Lastly,  taking  a  ladle  he  dealt  out  the 
mixture  into  the  cups.  Alkibiades  gave  a  toast, 
the  cups  were  emptied,  and  all  praised  the  vintage. 
Only  Philoxenos,  glutton  as  he  was,  shook  his  head 
ruefully  at  the  shortness  of  the  draught.  And  when 
some  one  remarked  upon  the  wine's  ripe  age,  he 
affected  great  surprise.  *  Mercy  on  us,'  he  inter- 
jected, *  but  it  is  mighty  small  for  its  years.'  Alki- 
biades laughed  at  his  impatience  and  declared  he 
should  not  have  long  to  wait.  They  soon  filled  up 
again,  and  time  after  time  the  toast  was  given  and 
the  wine  went  down.  Yet,  taking  it  diluted  as  it 
was — and  the  water  always  beat  the  wine — not  a 
man  seemed  a  drop  the  worse.  The  night  was  still 
young — and  they  would  take  their  time — to  hurry 
matters  would  be  a  pleasure  spoiled.  Therefore 
the  Greeks  counted  it  folly  to  take  good  liquor  neat, 
and  left  that,  as  the  men  in  our  own  island  do,  to 


94 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


A  DINNER-PARTY 


95 


If 


;► 


the   mighty   topers   of  the   North— abhorring   the 
bibulous  habits  of  the  Scythian.     The  hotter  and 
closer  grew  the  air,  the  deeper  and  more  recklessly 
they  drank.     Yet  there  was  to  be  observed  a  sort  of 
rhythm  and  method  in  their  drinking.     They  never 
emptied  their  cups  but  at  the  call ;    thereupon  up 
shot  a   dozen  arms  together,   a  dozen  cups  were 
brandished  for  an  instant  in  the  air,  a  dozen  voices 
pledged  the  toast  in  boisterous  unison,  and  then,  as 
they  threw  back  their  heads,  and  took  the  wine  at 
a  gulp,  there  fell  a  short  silence  that  seemed  to 
punctuate,  from  time  to  time,  the  tumult  of  the 
merriment,  only  the  music  of  the  flute  sounding  or 
perhaps  the  mufiled  echo  of  some  distant  shout,  as 
a  band  of  roysterers  went  by  in  the  street.     Outside, 
the  moon  had  risen  in  the  sky,  shining  down  into 
the  httle  court,  and  casting  through  the  open  door- 
way  pale   beams   across    the   floor.     The   summer 
night  was  sultry,  and  when  a  breath  of  wind  stirred 
in  the  heat  of  the  low  stifling  chamber,  those  who 
sat  there  welcomed  it,  thrusting  back  the  garlands 
from  their  melting  brows,  and  even  letting  their 
cloaks  drop  about  their  waists,  glad  to  bare  their 
body  to  the  night  air.     They  sank  back,  after  the 
toast  was  drunk,  sprawKng  in  graceful  languor  on  the 
pillows  and  the  drapings  of  their  couch.     And  all 
the  while  the  slaves  went  in  and  forth,  trimming 
the  lamp  wicks,  bringing  the  full  wine    jars   and 
bearing  the  empty  out. 

They  drank  in  no  sodden  or  dehberate  fashion, 
but  with  infinite  talk  and  jest  and  laughter,  which, 
as  the  evening  wore  on,  grew  into  a  very  fury  of 
merriment.  Each  guest  at  the  Feast  Master's  call 
had  to  play  his  part  and  entertain  the  company  with 


this  or  that,  now  some  play  of  words  or  rhymed 
conundrum,  now  a  discourse  in  praise  of  love  or  wine. 
Philippos  was  often  called  upon,  and  he  delighted 
them  with  his  resourcefulness,  and  first  he  would 
puzzle  them  with  a  riddle : 

*  I  wot  of  a  thing  which  low  must  lie 
In  the  blossom  of  youth,  but  by  and  by 
Unwinged  it  floateth  at  liberty 

In  a  fairy  flight  to  the  viewless  sky.* 

Then,  when  no  one  could  guess  what  this  might 
be,  he  had  the  answer  ready  in  a  second  verse  : 

*  Flower  of  the  thistle  's  an  earth-bound  thing 
With  a  cumbersome  burden  of  seed  in  spring, 
But  at  summer's  coming  it  taketh  wing. 
And  the  children  follow  its  wantoning.* 

Then  songs  were  sung ;  in  particular  they  in- 
stituted a  round  of  catches,  each  singing  in  turn 
and  taking  the  cue  from  his  neighbour.  Alkibiades 
himself  refused,  saying  it  was  not  his  habit  to  sing. 
But  he  had  the  loving-cup  filled  and  passed  to 
Theodoros.  There  was  a  branch  of  myrtle  en- 
twined, as  was  the  custom,  around  its  two  handles, 
and  the  singer  led  off  appropriately  enough  with  the 
brave  old  ballad  of  Harmodios  and  Aristogeiton  :  ^ 

*  In  branches  of  myrtle  my  sword  I  '11  enfold, 
Like  Harmodios  and  Aristogeiton  of  old  ; 
By  whose  daggers  the  tyrant  oppressor  was  slain, 
And  Athens  had  freedom  and  justice  again. 

Beloved  Harmodios,  thou  canst  not  be  dead  ; 
In  the  Isles  of  the  Blest,  thou  art  living,  'tis  said. 
Where  with  fleet-foot  Achilles  thy  place  thou  hast  won, 
And  with  stout-hearted  Diomed,  Tydeus'  bold  son. 


'  Translation  by  Mr.  H.  Rackham. 


ir 


I 


»" 


96    '     THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

In  branches  of  myrtle  my  sword  I  '11  enfold. 
Like  Harmodios  and  Aristogeiton  of  old. 
Who  once  on  Athena's  high  festival  day, 
With  daggers  the  tyrant  Hipparchos  did  slay. 

Your  glory  immortal  in  Attica's  land, 
Harmodios  and  Aristogeiton,  shall  stand, 
By  your  daggers  the  tyrant  oppressor  was  slain 
And  Athens  had  justice  and  freedom  again.' 

When  he  had  ended,  he  passed  the  bowl  and  it  fell 
on  Philippos  to  follow  suit.  Theodoros'  song  had 
been  of  liberty,  so  it  was  Philippos'  duty  to  cap 
that  sentiment  and  to  see  that  his  verses  chimed  in 
somehow  or  other  with  its  conclusion.  So  the 
song  of  his  choice  was  a  praise  of  liberty  also,  though 
of  a  different  sort.     This  is  what  he  sang : 

*  My  wealth  's  a  burly  spear  and  brand, 
And  a  right  good  shield  of  hides  untanned, 

Which  on  my  arm  I  buckle; 
With  these  I  plough,  I  reap,  I  sow. 
With  these  I  make  the  sweet  vintage  flow. 

And  all  around  me  truckle. 

But  your  wights  that  take  no  pride  to  wield 
A  massy  spear  and  well-made  shield. 

Nor  joy  to  draw  the  sword  : 
Oh !  I  bring  those  heartless,  hapless  drones 
Down  in  a  trice  on  their  marrow-bones, 

To  call  me  King  and  Lord.'  ^ 

That  was  apt  enough  ;  all  were  well  content  and 
applauded  loudly.  It  was  now  Kinesias'  turn ; 
but,  being  somewhat  of  a  novice  at  the  game,  he 

'  *The  Song  of  Hybreas  the   Cretan.*      Translated   by  Thomas 
Campbell. 


A  DINNER-PARTY 


97 


'4 


made  an  absurdly  irrelevant  choice.     For  the  catch 
he  sang  was  as  follows : — 

*  **  'Tis  foolish  to  wriggle  when  in  the  law's  grip," 
Said  the  crab  to  the  viper  and  gave  him  a  nip.* 

This  broke  the  rules  of  catch  sequence  in  a  ridi- 
culous manner,  and  called  forth  a  roar  of  derisive 
laughter.  Alkibiades  declared  that  he  must  pay 
a  forfeit ;  and  had  a  bowl  filled  for  him  with  salt 
water,  which,  after  much  protestation  and  splutter- 
ing, he  was  forced  to  swallow  down. 

It  was  now  that  Chaerephon,  who  was  an  un- 
conscionable prig,  and  vvho  had  listened  with  scorn 
to  these  frivoUties,  announced  that  for  his  part  he 
preferred  the  pursuit  of  wisdom  to  paltry  nonsense 
such  as  this.  Without  waiting  to  be  asked  he  em- 
barked upon  that  well-worn  theme,  a  notorious 
puzzle  to  philosophers,  the  Owl  and  the  Egg. 
Most  men,  he  was  inclined  to  think,  allowed  the  egg 
priority  of  existence.  That  was  not  his  behef.  In 
a  rambHng  and  maudHn  discourse — for  by  now  he 
was  well  in  his  cups — ^he  probed  the  dark  problems 
of  the  origin  of  Hfe,  and  was  about  to  vindicate  in 
triumph  the  superiority  of  the  bird's  claim,  when 
his  audience  lost  patience  and  shouted  him  down. 
*  Philosophy,'  Alkibiades  decided,  'was,  like  the 
ladies,  no  proper  company  at  table.'  *  So  out  with 
the  jack,  sir,  and  give  us  a  game  of  the  Kottabos,' 
he  added,  turning  to  the  host. 

At  this  the  slaves  fetched  a  tall  pole  which  they 
fixed  up  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  setting  round  its 
base  a  circular  metal  tray.  On  the  tip  of  the  pole 
the)^  balanced  a  saucer.  Pulytion,  by  general 
consent,  was  given  the  first  throw.     He  drained  his 


98 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


cup  of  all  but  a  few  drops,  and  then  calling  out 
loudly  '  Here  's  to  my  love,'  he  flung  the  dregs  in 
the  direction  of  the  saucer.  He  missed,  and  spitting 
on  the  floor,  he  sat  down  again  disgusted.  It  was 
now  Alkibiades'  turn,  and  he  fared  no  better.  So 
the  game  went  on  till  a  lucky  throw  from  Kinesias 
brought  the  saucer  clattering  on  to  the  tray  beneath. 
Kinesias  was  highly  flattered  ;  and  they  all  voted 
him  a  special  drink  in  honour  of  his  luck.  Now  there 
stood  upon  the  side  dresser  a  gigantic  vessel,  used 
for  cooling  wine  and  holding  half  a  gallon  at  the 
least.  This  Alkibiades  ordered  the  slaves  to  place 
in  the  victor's  hands  and  to  fill  it  to  the  brim.  '  It 
must  be  drunk  at  a  draught,'  said  he,  '  and  no  heel- 
taps,i  mind.'  Kinesias  was  aghast ;  his  head  was 
none  too  clear,  for  since  the  goblet  of  brine  he  had 
been  drinking  freely ;  if  he  accepted  the  challenge 
he  would  be  downright  tipsy,  and  he  was  of  no  mind 
to  cut  a  ridiculous  figure  in  such  company.  He 
therefore  begged  them  to  excuse  him. 

Alkibiades,  much  tickled  by  the  poor  man's  per- 
plexity, but  hiding  his  amusement  under  a  mock  air 
of  indignation,  called  out  that  this  was  rank  blas- 
phemy against  Bacchos  himself.  '  Name  of  the 
Dog,'  cried  he,  ^  but  who  is  this  pestilent  spoil-sport, 
to  spurn  at  the  god's  good  gifts  so  ?  Such  cant  is 
past  all  patience.  I  '11  none  of  it.  What,  my  lads, 
shall  we  not  learn  the  lean  rogue  a  lesson  ?  O 
the  infidel !  O  the  unregenerate  water-bibber ! 
Shall  he  not  do  penance  ?  Shall  he  not  sing  sacred 
hymns  ?  Shall  he  not  turn  to  the  truth  and  become 
as  one  of  the  Blessed  ?  Shall  he  not  bathe  in  the 
milk  ?     Shall  he  not  carry  the  wand  ?     By  Demeter, 

*  afivarif  is  the  Greek  word,  signifying  a  draught  taken  at  one  gulp. 


A  DINNER-PARTY 


99 


but  he  shall  learn  Dionysos'  high  mysteries  before 
to-morrow's  morn.'  The  company  hailed  this 
proposition  as  an  excellent  jest.  They  were  in  a 
mood  for  mischief,  and  took  Alkibiades  at  his  word  ; 
and  nothing  would  content  them  but  to  initiate 
Kinesias  in  mock-serious  make-believe.  All  was 
settled  on  the  instant.  The  ringleaders  took  em- 
broidered tapestries  from  the  couches  and  draped 
them  over  their  shoulders  to  mimic  the  robes  of  the 
priests.  Alkibiades  was  to  be  High  Pontiff,  Pulytion 
his  torch-bearer,  Theodores  acted  as  herald. 

While  all  this  was  arranging,  the  slaves  had 
brought  in  a  little  pig,  the  destined  victim  for  the 
morrow's  sacrifice.  This  completed  the  prepara- 
tions for  the  parody.  They  set  the  unhappy 
Kinesias  in  the  middle  of  the  room  and  muffled  his 
head  up  with  a  blanket.  Alkibiades  began  with 
muttered  incantations  sung  in  a  high  falsetto  voice. 
The  rest  snatched  the  torches  which  had  been  placed 
about  the  court,  and  danced  wildly  round.  Finally 
they  discharged  half  a  bushel  of  bran  over  the 
wretch's  head,  half  smothering  him.  This  was  too 
much  for  the  pig,  which,  scenting  food,  struggled 
free  from  Pulytion's  embrace,  and  then  bolted  out 
of  the  door.  There  was  a  hue  and  cry  after  the 
animal  all  round  the  court ;  and  Kinesias,  left  for 
the  moment  to  himself,  escaped  by  the  street  door 
and  made  away  home.  So  horrified  was  he  at  the 
impiety  that  had  been  done,  that  even  he  forgot 
the  risks  he  ran  going  through  the  streets  at  night 
and  unattended,  without  even  so  much  as  a  stick 
to  beat  off  robbers  with.  However,  as  luck  would 
have  it,  no  cutpurse  or  gown-snatcher  came  his 
way.     He  reached  home  with  a  whole  skin  and  with 


lOO 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


the  loss  of  nothing  but  his  breath.  Nor  was  it  until 
he  was  safe  in  bed  that  he  recollected  how  he  had 
left  the  canary-coloured  shoes,  the  property  of  a 
neighbour,  reposing  beneath  his  dining  couch. 
But  though  he  had  to  buy  the  owner  a  brand-new 
pair,  he  never  breathed  a  word  to  Pulytion,  and 
never  again  did  he  walk  of  a  morning  in  the  Painted 
Colonnade. 


H 
D 

O 
» 

6 
I— t 


A  DRINKING-BOUT 

A  slave-boy  enters  with  a  mixing-bowl  (Kratcr). 
The  drinkers  hold  shallow  cups  (Kylix)  ;  one  of  them  is 
flipping  the  dregs  at  the  Kottabos  *  jack.* 
Small  tables  are  placed  before  the  couches. 


THE  MARKET-PLACE 


103 


IX.  THE  MARKET-PLACE 


'AyopaC***'  5  *  To  be  in  good  agora  form/ 

A.  E.  ZiMMERN. 


He  sleeps  a  heavy  sleep  who  sups  on  Chian  wine,  and 
when  Theodoros  awoke  on  the  morrow  of  his 
carouse,  it  was  full  day  and  the  sun  was  shining  into 
his  chamber  between  the  pillars  of  the  court.  The 
door-curtain  had  by  his  neglect  been  left  undrawn 
overnight  and  he  could  see  out  into  the  sky.  But, 
though  the  sun  was  well  on  his  way,  it  was  early 
hours  yet,  and  there  was  a  new  freshness  in  the 
morning  air  as  though  it  had  been  rinsed  in  cold 
spring  water,  and  purged  of  the  stale  dregs  of 
yesterday's  heat  by  the  coolness  of  the  night,  as 
happens  every  day  in  Greece. 

Rolling  out  of  his  sheepskin  rug,  Theodoros  sHd 
either  foot  into  a  shoe  and  picked  up  the  ample 
woollen  wrap  that  lay  where  he  had  tossed  it  in  a 
corner.  Scanty  as  was  the  Greek  costume,  its 
arrangement  was  no  such  simple  matter  ;  taste  told 
here,  and  a  smart  gentleman  was  always  to  be  recog- 
nised by  the  accurate  hang  of  his  cloak.  Passing  it 
across  his  chest,  Theodoros  looped  it  under  his  left 
armpit,  round  the  back,  and  over  the  right  shoulder 
(for  this  was  the  style  then  in  vogue),  and  finally 
shook  out  its  loose  end  like  a  plaid  so  that  the  folds 
hung  free  down  his  right  side  and  leg.  Thus 
covering  his  naked  body  without  over-burdening 

it  with  complicated  clothes  (it  was  now  a  regular 
10s 


mode  with  many  Athenians  to  ape  the  Spartan 
simplicity  of  dress),  he  stepped  from  his  room  into 
the  court  and  from  the  court  into  the  street.  Here 
he  fell  in  with  young  Archedemos  bound  for  the 
grammar-master's  school,  with  his  luckless  slave- 
tutor  in  tow.  Theodoros  walked  with  the  boy  as 
far  as  the  Nine  Fountains,  which  lay  in  a  hollow 
between  the  AkropoHs  and  Pnyx  ;  the  women  were 
busy  filling  their  pitchers  for  the  day,  and  as  he 
passed,  the  last  of  them  was  shouldering  her  vessel, 
which  dripped  a  wet  trail  behind  her  in  the  thick 
dust.  Theodoros  left  the  boy  to  go  his  way  and 
stepped  down  into  the  cool  rock  cavern  of  the  well- 
house — not  that  he  had  any  idea  of  a  morning  wash 
(such  cant  superstition  was  no  habit  of  his,  and  if  he 
took  a  wash  at  all,  it  was  just  before  his  supper) — but 
his  mouth  was  sour  and  dry  and  the  water  was  cold, 
and  clearing  to  the  head.  After  his  draught  he  struck 
down  the  road  that  branched  to  the  market-place. 

As  he  sauntered  through  the  narrow  streets,  the 
still  morning  air  was  filled  with  the  sounds  of  merry 
workers,  men  and  women,  freemen  and  slaves, 
weavers  and  cobblers,  dyers,  tanners,  tinkers,  car- 
penters, smiths  and  wheelwrights,  all  setting  about 
the  business  of  the  day.  In  one  workshop  which 
he  passed  he  saw  a  sculptor  engaged  in  shaping  out 
a  group  of  the  Three  Graces,  while  his  slave  was 
grinding  the  tools  on  a  stone.  Theodoros  knew 
the  man  well,  and  gave  him  a  hail  in  passing.  No 
need  to  catch  a  gUmpse  of  the  snub  nose  and  bulg- 
ing sockets  to  recognise  that  sturdy  figure.  It  was 
Sokrates,  throwing  the  same  simple-hearted  zest  that 
he  gave  to  conversation  into  the  earning  of  his  daily 
bread ;  for  neither  he  nor  any  true  son  of  Athens 


104        THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

thought  shame  to  labour  for  his  livelihood.  Not  that 
he  would  let  out  his  labour  for  day-hire  ;  that  was 
worse,  if  anything,  than  to  take  a  fee  for  a  lecture  as 
his  rival  sophists  did.  But  free,  independent  crafts- 
manship was  another  matter.  Offer  him  a  contract 
for  a  statue,  a  herm  or  an  epitaph,  and  he  will  make  no 
demur.  For  upon  those  conditions  he  may  remain  his 
own  master,  free  to  work  or  idle  as  he  chooses,  and  not 
Hke  the  daj^-labourer  or  the  poor  menial  grinding  at 
the  stone  in  the  corner.  No  chance  for  the  slave  to 
knock  off  work  at  noon  if  he  wishes,  and  have  a  friendly 
chat  at  the  barber's,  nor  to  stroll  down  of  an  evening 
to  Peiraieus  and  watch  the  boys  running  in  the  torch- 
race.  For,  though  he  works  with  a  will  and  earns  as 
good  a  wage  as  many  a  freeman,  yet  he  is  bound  to 
his  task  body,  soul  and  spirit,  the  slave  of  his  master's 
pleasure,  as  Aristotle  says,  a  *  living  tool.' 

Theodoros  saw  that  Sokrates  was  in  no  mood  for 
conversation  and  left  him  at  his  carving.  Round 
the  corner  he  came  upon  a  smithy,  then  another  and 
another  ;  the  street  was  full  of  them  (for  this  was  the 
quarter  of  the  metal-workers'  *  gild  ')  ;  and  in  each 
a  score  or  two  of  slaves  were  busy  at  the  forges, 
blowing  up  the  embers,  hammering  out  the  metal, 
burnishing  the  breastplates  and  shields  and  panni- 
kins, which  shone  out  of  the  dim  recesses  under  the 
light  of  the  flickering  fires. 

Theodoros  stopped  his  ears  and  hurried  out  of  the 
clatter.  On  past  the  Temple  of  Hephaistos,^  down 
a  steep  winding  alley,  under  the  pillars  of  a  lofty 
colonnade,  and  he  was  standing  in  the  open  market- 
square. 

1  Now  misnamed  the  Temple  of  Theseus.     It  is  the  most  perfect 
specimen  of  a  Greek  temple  which  survives. 


THE  MARKET-PLACE 


105 


Here  a  busy  scene  was  already  in  progress ;  the 
peasants  and  hucksters  had  spread  their  wares,  and 
the  flies  had  assembled  in  thick  swarms  to  devour 
them  before  even  the  buyers  could  arrive.  Theo- 
doros himself  had  not  come  a-marketing,  so  he  did 
not  Hnger  here,  but  crossed  the  square  and  turned 
down  a  side-alley  where  a  knot  of  men  were  lounging 
round  an  open  door.  It  was  the  entrance  of  a 
barber's  shop,  and  the  barber  was  within,  intent  upon 
a  customer's  hair  and  beard.  A  perfume  of  almonds 
and  sesame  spread  out  into  the  street,  and  along  with 
it  came  the  plaintive  tones  of  a  young  man's  voice. 
Its  owner,  who  was  seated  on  the  barber's  stool,  was 
making  loud  lament  over  his  love  troubles,  and  his 
friends  outside  the  door  were  rallying  him  in  reply. 

*  What,'   cried   one   of  these   in   a   mocking  tone, 

*  jealous,  lad,  and  in  love  ?  Lord,  thou  couldst 
break  a  staff  on  some  one's  back,  couldst  thou  ? 
And  Kleinias  had  a  son,  had  he  ?  Patience,  dear 
Kleisthenes,  and  bide  thy  time,  bide  thy  time  !  ' 
And  he  went  through  an  odd  pantomime  of  gesture ; 
throwing  his  head  back,  he  gulped  down  an  imagin- 
ary draught,  shivered  in  his  legs  and  closed  his  eyes, 
all  with  so  perfect  a  mimicry  of  a  death  by  poison 
that  it  raised  a  loud  laugh.  '  That  for  Alkibiades, 
son  of  Kleinias,'  he  added.  *  Wait,  Httle  Kleis- 
thenes, wait !  ' — *  Waiting  is  well  enough,'  replied 
the  doleful  voice,  '  but  dost  thou  mind  the  old  say- 
ing, "  Wait  for  the  swallow  and  it  never  comes "  ? ' 

By  this  time  Theodoros  had  come  up  behind  the 
jester  and  laid  a  hand  upon  his  back.  Feeling  his 
cloak  plucked,  the  man  turned  round.  Theodoros 
knew  the  fellow  well.  It  was  Panaetios,  an  arch 
buffoon  whose   extravagant   antics   had  won  him 


I 


io6         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

some  reputation  as  a  wit,  and  the  appropriate  nick- 
name of  the  Ape.     When  asked  what  he  meant  by 
the  foolery  just  ended,  Panaetios  wagged  his  finger 
knowingly,  *  Nobody  could  tell  better  than  thou, 
Theodoros,  I  '11  be  sworn.     But,  mark  my  words, 
my  man,  if  once  your  last  night's  doings  come  to 
light  they  will  serve  our  friend  with  a  dose  of  hem- 
lock yet,  or  never  trust  me  for  an  oracle.'—'  A  pox 
on  thy  idle  gossip  and  thy  false  prophecies  both. 
There  was  some  mad  work,  I  grant  thee,  but  would 
the  people  pass  a  decree  of  death  on  Alkibiades, 
think  ye,  for  a  mere  drunken  froUc  ?     Why,  he  is 
their  very  darhng  and  their  hero,  now  that  Kleon  is 
cold  meat ;  they  call  him  their  "  watch-dog  "  already; 
and   it's   "Alkibiades'   horses,"    and   "Alkibiades' 
hounds,"   and  "Alkibiades'   boots,"^  and   "who's 
our   man   but   Alkibiades  ?  "     morning,   noon   and 
night.     They  will  not  hear  a  word  from  Nikias,  and 
small  wonder,  he  is  as  timid  as  any  turtle-dove.     He 
has  not  the  heart  to  say  "  gru,"  no,  not  to  our  poor 
Chaerephon   here.'     He   pointed   at   a   pale-faced, 
weak-eyed   fellow   known   to   posterity   as   one   of 
Sokrates'  favourite  pupils  and  to  his  intimates  as  the 
Bat.     *  Puff  out  your  cheeks,'  said  the  barber  as  he 
ended  by  shaving  his  customer.     '  No,'  continued 
Theodoros,    *  Alkibiades   is    much   in   the   people's 
mouth.' — *  Aye,  a  deal  too  much,'  drawled  Kleis- 
thenes,   appearing  at  the   door,  '  a   deYilish   deal,' 
he  added,  using  a   termination  which,  like  many 
young  coxcombs  of  the  day,  he  much  affected  in 

his  talk.^ 

'  O  Ekbatana,  what  sight,'  cried  Panaetios,  turning 

1  Kos  in  the  Greek.     It  was  the  fashion  of  the  day  to  use  adjectives 
with  this  termination.     Oxford  slang  can  give  many  counterparts. 


THE  MARKET-PLACE 


107 


round  to  stare  at  the  new-comer  and  smacking  his 
thigh  in  his  vulgar  fashion.  '  O  Kleisthenes,  my 
pretty  fellow,  costly  as  King  Xerxes  on  his  ivory 
throne  ! '  and  Panaetios  made  mock  obeisance  to  the 
young  dandy.  He  was  indeed  an  exquisite  sight : 
his  cheeks  rouged,  his  long  hair  anointed,  combed 
and  (his  enemies  said)  dyed.  He  wore  an  enormous 
onyx  ring  on  his  hand,  which  he  carried  in  a  lacka- 
daisical fashion  upon  his  bosom.  He  turned  out 
the  toes  of  his  high-laced  boots  with  the  mincing 
elegance  of  a  female  dancer,  and  his  cloak,  which  was 
elaborately  embroidered,  was  allowed  to  trail  behind 
him  as  he  walked.  Chaerephon,  who  stood  by  the 
door,  looked  sneeringly  at  the  brilliant  hues.  '  It 
is  most  men's  habit,  as  the  Master  said  in  his  debate 
with  Antiphon,  to  change  their  clothes  according  to 
the  sun's  heat — but,  in  sooth,  our  friend  here 
resembles  nothing  so  much  as  the  chameleon,  for 
he  matches  his  clothes  with  the  colour  of  his  cheeks.' 
Chaerephon's  own  homespun  was  of  the  texture 
and  colour  of  sackcloth,  and  greasy  with  wear,  for 
it  had  not  seen  the  inside  of  a  fuller's  shop  for  a 
twelvemonth  past.  And  Kleisthenes  could  afford 
to  ignore  the  sneer.  '  SmartzVZ>,  I  grant  you,  friends,' 
he  said,  turning  to  his  friends.  '  Let  the  town  judge 
now  between  Kleisthenes  and  the  son  of  Kleinias.' 
— '  O  men  of  Athens,'  cried  Panaetios,  '  the  cock- 
sparrow,  being  jealous  of  the  eagle,  has  stuck  a 
peacock's  feather  in  his  tail ! ' — '  Hark  to  him  ! ' 
cried  Theodoros  in  the  same  breath;  'why,  man, 
Alkibiades  has  more  grace  in  his  manner  and  more 
matter  in  his  wit  than  thou  hast  vermilion  on  thy 
two  daubed  cheeks ! ' — '  Aye,  talk  waggxVA  and 
welcome,'  replied  the  fop, '  thou  'It  not  gammon  me. 


io8         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

Now  that  thou  speakest  of  birds,  I  call  to  mind  a 
scheme  I  have  to  get  the  better  of  my  foe  ;  there  is 
a  fighting  cock  of  mine  I  '11  match  with  his,  and  I  '11 
back  it  to  win  for  a  talent  of  gold— a  toughish  bird, 
I  '11  warrant  you.'—*  It  seems  to  me,'  said  Chae- 
rephon,  '  that  those  who  consider  themselves  to  be 
somebody,  but  are  not,  are  the  most  ridiculous  of 
all  mankind,'  with  which  sententious  utterance  the 
young  philosopher  walked  into  the  shop,  there  to 
have  his  eyes  treated  with  a  queer  compound  of 
ashes,  fig  juice,  and  spurge.  For,  like  many  who 
frequented  those  foul  and  dusty  streets,  he  was 
much  troubled  by  an  inflammation  of  the  eyes. 

Not  twenty  paces  from  the  barber's  shop  the  close 
and  shadowed  alley  led  out  into  the  sunny  square. 
And  here,  while  the  young  dandies  lounged  and 
gossiped,  all  was  bustle  and  confusion.     It  was  the 
hour  of  full  market,  and  business  was  in  full  swing. 
Heavens,    what  a  babel!     Hark   to   the   salesmen 
shrieking  their  falsetto  sing-song,  '  Buy  my  char- 
coal,' *  Buy  my  myrtle,'  '  Fresh  rolls  for  sale,'  and  a 
score  of  other  such  cries.     Now  and  then,  as  a  variety 
of  discord,  came  the  high-pitched  tones  of  some 
eager  pair  in  the  heat  of  a  hard-driven  bargain. 
The  business  seemed  most  brisk  at  the  fruit  and 
greenery  stalls— for  the  Athenians  are   vegetarians 
by  taste,  and  are  most  particular  about  their  salad. 
They  may  take  their  choice  from  an  ample  store- 
onions,  leeks,  lettuce,  radish,  vast  bundles  of  garhc. 
Fruit  lies  round  in  heaps  upon  the  ground  :  grapes, 
ripe  figs   and  pomegranates,   huge   pumpkins   and 
cucumbers ;  but  for  all  this  plenty  a  man  must  be 
wary  and  take  time  over  his  bargain,  or  he  will  get 
the  worst  of  it.    Not  so  at  the  bread  stalls,  however  : 


THE  MARKET-PLACE 


109 


there  his  stay  will  be  short ;  the  women  that  preside 
over  them  have  short  tempers  and  sharp  tongues ; 
besides,  bread  is  a  necessity  and  it  is  no  use  to  haggle 
here.     The  pastry-cooks  are  in  a  different  case,  they 
must  puff  their  wares ;   so  there  is  a  tempting  look 
about  those  sesame  cakes  sweetened  with  honey  and 
flavoured  with  wine.     If  you  have  a  dinner-party 
in  view,  you  will  purchase  one  or  two  and  pass  on 
in    search    of    conger-eels,    fieldfares     and     other 
deHcacies.     You   need   not   search  long,  for  there 
is  everything  here  that  money  can  buy,  and  time 
would  fail  to  run  through  half  the  list.     Such  a 
miscellany  of  wares  gave  a  strange  and  pungent 
odour  to  an  air  already  laden  with  dust  and  heat ; 
here  an  acrid  savour  of  pickles  and  sour  wine,  there 
a  sturdy  whiff  of  garlic,  a  stale  stench  of  rancid 
cheese,  or  a  nauseous  vapour  of  tripe  and  entrails 
roasting  on  charcoal  embers  round  the  corner  ;  and, 
permeating  all  these,  the  sickly  reek  of  the  ubiquitous 
olive-oil — smells,  every  one  of  them,  dear  to  the 
nostrils  of  a  Greek,  who  likes  his  flavours  strong. 
And  besides  all  this,  fruit  rinds  and  butcher's  offal 
lie  rotting  in  the  dust  and  black  with  swarming 
flies.    Thus  the  pleasures  of  shopping  are  not  of  the 
most  refined,  and  many  prefer  to  send  their  slaves 
a-marketing ;    others  come  themselves,   but  bring 
a  slave  to  carry  the  parcels.     The  women  do  the 
shopping  only  in   the   poorer   famihes,  and  even 
then  the  husband  is  often  sent  on  errands.     The 
market  is  conveniently  arranged,  for  the  trades  are 
massed  together  in  groups  or  rings  :   some  under 
wicker  booths,  others  beneath  rude  awnings,  which 
serve  as  a  shield  against  the  sun  :    each  bazaar  has 
its  appointed  place.     Slightly  apart  sits  the  money- 


'I 


no         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

lender  at  his  table,  with  seals,  bags,  tablets  and 
counting-board  before  him,  waiting  like  a  spider 
for  his  prey.     Here  comes  a  customer,  some  y^ung 
Pheidippides,  with  an  expensive  taste  for  horseflesh. 
The  thirtieth  of  the  month  is  drawing  near,  when  all 
debts  are  due.    A  loan  of  two  minae  ?  That  is  easily 
done  !     Out  comes  the  tablet  and  the  loan  is  entered 
at  the  interest  of  two  per  cent.,  paid  monthly,  and 
the  luckless  fly  is  in  the  toils.     Outside,  beyond  the 
Agora  proper,  the  market  spreads  into  the  neighbour- 
ing spaces.    The  scent  bazaar  is  near  at  hand  :  here, 
if  you  still  lack  a  guest  for  your  dinner,  you  may  be 
sure  to  find  the  smartest  beaux.     And,  as  luck  would 
have  it,  the  myrtle  market  lies  next  door,  where  you 
can  buy  each  of  your  guests  a  tasteful  garland.     Pass 
down  the  other  way  and  you  will  come  on  a  score 
of  cobblers  seated  behind  rows  of  shoes.     One  fellow 
has  obtained  an  order  and  he  is  upon  his  feet ;  his 
customer  is  stood  upon  the  table  while  he  himself, 
half  naked,  with  cloak  tucked  round  his  waist,  traces 
the  foot's  outHne  on  the  leather.     Meanwhile  his 
rivals  redouble  their  noisy  chorus :  '  Chian  shoes,' 
'  Ambraciot  shoes,'  '  Spartans  or  Argives,'  '  Sandals 
and  Saffrons,'  '  Red  shoes,'  '  Hemp  shoes,'  '  Scarlet 
shoes,'  till  you  are  nearly  deafened.     Are  you  want- 
mg  a  new  slave,  there  is  a  dealer  near  by ;  he  too 
puffs  his  wares  like  an  auctioneer,  now  pinching  a 
naked  Phrygian  to  display  his  muscle,  now  setting 
the  crowd  in  a  roar  over  a  negro's  short  black  curls. 
Everywhere   are   many  who  have  not  come   to 
buy.     The  market  wardens  pass  in  and  out  among 
the  crowd,  settling  disputes,  regulating  prices  and 
seemg   that   the   fishmongers   do   not   water   their 
stale  fish.     As  a  symbol  of  office  they  carry  whips. 


THE  MARKET-PLACE 


III 


On  the  fringe  of  all  this  bustle,  where  the  space  is 
clear,  saunter  groups  of  merry  idlers  and  indefati- 
gable talkers.     In  the  Painted  Colonnade  a  dozen 
grave  and  bearded  men  are  in  hot  dispute.     It  may 
be  only  a  rumour  from  Peiraieus  or  a  point  of  politics 
that  has  aroused  discussion,  but  all  are  in  deadly 
earnest ;    all  talk  at  once  ;    and  when  you  hear  the 
words  rapped  out  and  see  the  tremulous  play  of 
fingers  in  the  air,  the  whirligig  of  gestures  and  the 
shaken  fists,  you  could  swear  it  was  a  serious  quarrel 
and  half  expect  a  Scythian  constable  posted  at  the 
corner  to  step  up  and  interfere.     At  the  other  end  of 
the  building  some  lewd  young  bachelors  are  playing 
at  dice  or  whispering  the  latest  scandal :  here  repu- 
tations are  destroyed  by  a  pointed  finger  or  a  nod. 
Well-known  figures  come  and  go.     As  Nikias  crosses 
the  square,  avoiding  as  well  as  he  may  the  observation 
of  the  vulgar  crowd,  a  common  fellow  sees  him  and 
pursues  him  with  abusive  criticisms  of  the  speech 
he  delivered  yesterday  up  on  the  Pnyx.     In  a  shady 
corner  a  loud-mouthed  sophist  is  engaged  upon  a 
discourse,  questioning  the  beliefs  of  centuries  and 
turning  even  the  tale  of  Troy  to  ridicule.     A  crowd 
has  gathered  to  listen,  when  suddenly  comes  the 
clatter  of  a  bell.     A  catch  of  fish  has  just  come  in 
from   Phaleron;   and  in   a   twinkling  the  sophist's 
audience  has  melted  away — all  but  one  old  man,  and 
he,  deaf  as  a  post,   as  all  the  town  well  knows. 
'  Thank  you  kindly,'  said  the  grateful  sophist  (who 
is  a  stranger  and  does  not  grasp  the  situation),  '  you 
at  least  scorn  the  pleasures  of  the  body  :   you  have 
a  soul  above  the  sale  of  fish.' — *  Bless  me,  did  the  fish 
bell  ring  ? '  cries  the  old  man,  and  off  he  stumps 
away  after  the  rest.     Hippias,  Prodikos,  nay  even 


112         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

Pythagoras  himself,  might  talk  in  vain  just  now ; 
for  when  fresh  fish  is  selling  at  the  price  of  salted 
sprats,  even  Athens  herself,  for  all  her  love  of 
learning,  cares  for  none  of  these  things. 

So  the  morning  wears  on.  The  day's  purchases 
are  made  and  the  market  empties.  That  way  goes 
a  six-foot  knight-at-arms  with  a  dish  of  fried  eggs  in 
his  helmet.  Here  is  a  fine  gentleman  who  has  been 
sent  to  market  by  his  wife,  packing  his  slave  off 
home  with  the  morning's  purchase — sleeks,  a  large 
pike,  sesame  cakes  and  a  bundle  of  wool.  *  A  load 
fit  to  break  an  Egyptian's  back,'  groans  the  slave 
as  he  passes  the  barber's  door.  After  him  come  two 
workmen  casting  up  their  simple  accounts. 

'  What  did  I  get  of  Archedemos  yesterday, 
think  'ee,  for  setting  a  new  bar  to  his  door  and  an  oak 
one  at  that  ?  One  drachma  and  a  half.  A  long 
day's  work  and  a  poor  day's  wage,  say  I.' 

'  Nine  silver  obols,^  neighbour  ;  but  that 's  a  fine  ■ 
sum.     Look  'ee,  what  did  I  get  for  sitting  all  day 
judging    cases    in    a    jury-court,   aye,   and    voting 
"  guilty  "  like  a   man  each  blessed  time  ?     Curse 
me  if  I  got  but  three.' 

'  Nine  silver  obols,'  said  the  first,  pursuing  his 
own  thoughts,  '  and  what  is  left  of  them  now  ?  ' 
and  opening  his  mouth  he  produced  three  plump 
diminutive  coins  from  between  the  cheek  and  the 
gums. 

*  6  obols  =  I  drachma,  the  equivalent  of  i  franc.  Menial  labour 
brought  a  man  only  3  obols  a  day  (viz.  about  2s.  6d.  per  week)  j  an 
ordinary  workman's  pay  was  i  drachma  per  diem,  equivalent  to  5s. 
weekly.  A  highly  skilled  labourer  earned  as  much  as  2^  drachmas  per 
diem  (  =  about  1 38.  weekly).  Money  had  perhaps  four  or  five  times  its 
present  power  of  purchase.  So  that  with  the  simple  tastes  of  the 
vegetarian  Greek,  it  would  be  just  possible  to  support  a  family  even  at 
the  lowest  rate.  ' 


THE  MARKET-PLACE 


113 


*Lend  me  thy  pin,  neighbour,  to  scratch  the 
count  on  this  sherd.' 

He  totted  up  his  expenses  : — 

*  Garhc  and  a  bunch  of  radish,  i  obol. 
Bottle  of  oil,  i  obol. 
Firing,  i  obol. 

Two  loaves  and  a  pint  of  barley  meal,  f  obol. 
Salt  fish  for  a  relish  to  the  same,  i  obol. 
*  Total,  three  obols  in  all,  and  three  more  did  I  pay 
to  that  false  thief  of  a  fuller  who  cleaned  my  cloak 
for  me  against  the  Lenaea  feast-day,  and  swore,  so 
help  him,  it  should  cost  me  but  two.' 

'  Have  the  law  of  him,  neighbour,'  cried  the  aged 
juror,  '  and  I  '11  vote  him  guilty  too.  Yet,  I  am 
thinking,  it  would  pay  thee  well  to  spend  but  a 
half-obol  and  hire  a  cloak,  as  I  do.  Did  I  fare  the 
worse  for  that  ?  Not  I,  I  sat  in  the  front  seats  and 
hissed  old  Agathon's  plays  with  the  best  of  you.' 

^  Taste  and  economy  combined,  as  old  Perikles 
said,'  laughed  Theodoros  to  his  friends,  as  the  old 
men  went  past  the  door.  '  Why,  I  could  not  have 
done  better  myself,  for  all  that  I  am  paying  my 
professor,  like  a  king,  thirty  minae  if  you  please, 
and  slaving  all  day  at  a  course  on  the  theory  of  com- 
posing Tragedy.' 

*  And  practising  the  art  of  Comedy  at  nights,  eh  ? ' 
broke  in  Panaetios,  '  but  here  comes  your  high 
pontiff,  sir,  your  counterfeit  bacchanal!  here's 
your  mock-mystery  !  Watch  him  coming  past  the 
Hermae  ;  see  the  sour  looks  men  give  him  now.' 

True  enough,  Alkibiades  was  crossing  the  square, 
and  all  eyes  were  turned  his  way.  It  was  not  at 
him,  however,  they  were  looking.  At  his  heels 
trotted  a  hound  of  unusual  size,  but  (no  wonder 


n 


114         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

men  stared  in  amazement)  with  not  even  the  ghost 
of  a  stump  to  wag  at  his  tail. 

*  Well,'  said  Alkibiades,  when  he  reached  his 
friends,  '  your  stare  would  make  a  Scythian  bowman 
blush.  Zeus  in  heaven,  what  ails  you  all  that  you 
have  lost  your  tongues  ?  Has  the  wolf  been  and 
seen  you  before  you  saw  him  ?  ^  Is  it  felony,  pray, 
or  high  treason,  to  cut  the  tail  off  a  dog  ?  I  under- 
stand my  own  business  best,  I  think,  and  I  know 
this  giddy  populace  ;  they  must  needs  have  some 
scandal  to  occupy  their  filthy  mouths  :  so  I  pay  my 
score  by  proxy.  The  more  they  talk  of  the  maiming 
of  the  dog,  the  less  they  will  comment,  sirs,  upon 
his  master's  morals.     You  take  my  point  ?  ' 

Panaetios  laid  a  finger  on  his  crown  and  shook 
his  head  with  the  air  of  a  grave  physician.  *  I 
was  wrong,  by  Asklepios,'  he  said.  '  I  spoke  but 
now  of  hemlock,  the  dose  I  should  prescribe  is 
hellebore.^ 

*  Friends  must  share  and  share  alike,  says  the 
proverb  ;  and  thou  shalt  make  that  good  at  dinner, 
my  man,'  cried  Alkibiades  laughing  ;  and  when  in 
his  courteous  way  he  had  extended  the  same  invita- 
tion to  the  others,  they  all  parted  to  their  several 
homes  for  the  hour  of  the  midday  meal. 

For  by  now  the  shadow  on  the  public  dial 
measured  noon.  At  such  an  hour,  even  Greeks  will 
seek  shelter,  when  the  sun  beats  down  so  fiercely 
that  the  very  stones  are  scorching  to  the  touch. 
The  dealers  packed  up  the  unsold  remnants  of  their 

*  It  was  a  country  superstition  that  a  person  seen  by  a  wolf  before 
he  saw  it  was  struck  dumb. 

*  A  supposed  cure  for  madness.     Hemlock  was  the  poison  used  in 
putting  criminals  to  death. 


THE  MARKET-PLACE 


"5 


wares ;  the  policemen  returned  to  their  huts ;  the 
loungers  departed  ;  even  the  philosophers  bethought 
them  of  lunch — and  very  soon  the  place  was  empty. 
By  and  by  the  shy  green  lizards,  one  after  another, 
poked  a  nose  out  of  the  crevices  and  crept  from  under 
the  statue  bases,  to  bask  at  peace  in  the  deserted 
square. 


^ . 


: 


THE  MARKET-PLACE 

The  *  Painted  Stoa*  faces  us  ;  the  round  building  on  the 
right  is  the  Tholos,  where  the  Prytaneis  lived.  Between 
these  two  buildings  a  glimpse  may  be  had  of  the  northern 
cliff  of  the  Akropolis. 

Among  the  figures  may  be  noted  a  gentleman  driving  a 
bargain  with  a  dealer,  his  negro  slave-boy  in  attendance; 
in  the  foreground  a  peasant  with  his  rough  cloak  tucked 
up  in  a  typically  bucolic  fashion.  Alkibiades  and  his  dog 
advance  in  the  centre,  his  richly  embroidered  cloak  trail- 
ing behind  him.  On  the  right  a  banker  sits  at  his  table, 
folding-tablets  in  hand.  Behind  him  enters  a  stranger  in 
travelling  hat  and  cloak. 


4 


X.  A  FUNERAL 


Life's  voyagers  sail  a  treacherous  sea, 
Where  many  founder  piteously. 
With  Fortune  at  the  helm,  we  keep 
A  wavering  course  across  the  deep. 
Blow  fair,  blow  foul,  we  all  must  come 
To  one  last  anchorage,  the  Tomb. 

Greek  Anthology. 
(Translation  by  Mr.  H.  Rackham.) 

King  David,  as  we  are  told,  knew  better  than  to 
nurse  a  foolish  pride  before  the  grim  alternative  of 
pestilence  or  a  wasting  war.  But  Athens,  beset  by 
both  plague  and  war  at  once  in  terrible  partnership, 
did  not  learn  her  lesson,  and  held  on  her  course  with 
an  ever-hardening  heart.  For  under  this  calamity 
her  spirit,  though  not  broken,  was,  which  is  far 
worse,  seared  and  embittered,  so  that  she  lost  all 
faith  in  what  might  have  been  her  truer  self.  And 
in  the  later  pages  of  Thukydides  the  air  is  full  of 
mean  suspicions,  frantic  audacities,  savage  recrimi- 
nations and  cynical  revenges.  Athens,  in  more  senses 
than  one,  never  recovered  of  the  Plague. 

It  had  come  to  her  with  the  spring,  and  as  the 
heat  of  summer  grew,  so  the  sickness  spread.  Nor 
was  there  any  escape.  To  leave  the  walls  was 
madness,  when  the  Spartans  were  on  the  Boeotian 
border  planning  no  one  knew  what  sudden  raid. 
There  was  therefore  nothing  for  it  but  to  sit  and 
wait  within  the  walls,  some  dicing  and  drinking, 
some  staking  their  property  or  part  of  it  in  desperate 

117 


'I 


ii8         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

vows  to  the  god  of  Medicine,^  some  abusing  Perikles, 
some  Fate,  and  one  and  all  playing  at  hazards  with 
Death,  who  took  his  pick,  we  are  told,  of  rich  and 
poor,  godless  and  devout,  with  a  fine  impartiahty. 
He  would   pass   up   from   Peiraieus  through  that 
narrow  strip  of  unwholesome  land  between  the  two 
Long  Walls,  and  the  country-folk  encamped  there 
perished  by  scores.     So  fast  did  they  die  that  there 
was  often  nobody  to  bury  the  bodies,  and  these  lay, 
as  they  fell,  round  the  pools  and  cisterns,  to  which 
in  their  last  agony  the  fevered  wretches  had  dragged 
themselves  to  drink.     Next  he  would  turn  to  the 
low  hills  around  the  Pnyx,  where  in  their  filthy 
hovels    the    poor    of    Athens    were    awaiting    in 
despair.     Down  in  the  city  he  would  catch  some 
wretch  rifling  a  stricken  house,  and  would  kill  him 
at  his  sorry  work.     Nor  did  he  spare  the  homes  of  the 
rich.     And  one  day  Perikles'  last  surviving  son  was 
fatally  seized. 

It  so  happened  that  Alkibiades  was  passing  the 
house,  and  seeing  a  water-stoup  hanging  outside  the 
porch,  knew  it  for  a  token  of  death.  It  was  an  old 
custom  to  set  water  at  the  door,  that  visitors  who 
came  to  see  the  dead  might  on  departure  cleanse 
themselves  of  pollution.  Men  were  by  this  time 
careless  of  infection,  and  Alkibiades  entered.  In  the 
court  the  bier  stood  out  under  the  open  sky,  the 
feet  towards  the  door,  vine  branches  were  laid  against 
its  sides,  and  a  slave  stood  by  driving  off  the  flies 
with  a  spray  of  myrtle  ;  round  the  bier  crouched 
women  who  crooned  a  weird,  unceasing  dirge.  More 
horrible    still    than   the   sounds   they   made   was 

>  Asklcpcios  or  Aesculapius,  to  whom  in  her  need  Athens  now  turned 
and  built  her  a  new  precinct  on  the  slope  of  the  Akropolit  Hill, 


A  FUNERAL 


119 


the  sight  of  their  scarred  cheeks,  their  torn  hair, 
and  battered  breasts.  Perikles  himself,  who  would 
have  restrained  these  ugly  excesses  of  grief,  was  not 
within  but  in  a  shady  corner  of  the  court,  a  group 
of  relatives  were  unsealing  the  dead  man's  will. 
Alldbiades  spoke  with  them  briefly  and  then  de- 
parted that  he  might,  in  quality  of  a  kinsman  and 
mourner,  prepare  himself  for  the  funeral  by  having 
his  hair  cropped  to  the  scalp. 

Next  morning,  and,  true  to  custom,  before  the 
sun  was  up,  the  train  of  black-robed  mourners  set 
forth  from  the  house  followed  by  the  bier.  The 
corpse  was  swathed  in  bands  of  linen,  and  covered 
with  a  pall.  The  face  was  chalked  and  painted  very 
garishly.  With  those  who  wheeled  the  bier,  came 
hired  mourners  who  wailed  in  hideous  accompani- 
ment to  the  thin  scream  of  the  pipes.  Women 
brought  up  the  rear,  but  only  such  as  had  blood 
kinship  with  the  deceased.  No  female  stranger 
might  follow  the  bier  unless  she  had  passed  sixty 
years  of  age. 

Outside  the  walls  they  came  to  an  open  space 
where  were  the  charred  remains  of  numberless  fires, 
now  mere  heaps  of  wood  ash.  One  band  of 
mourners  had  just  set  light  to  their  pyre,  when  a 
second  party  approached  hurriedly,  and  hurling  a 
body  upon  the  half-burnt  logs,  fled  back  to  the  city 
— to  such  shifts  were  men  driven  for  means  to  do  their 
duty  by  their  dead.  And  never  surely  did  Hermes 
ply  his  trade  more  busily  between  Styx  and  Kera- 
meikos.^  For  it  was  in  this  quarter  that  the  more 
respectable  conducted  their  funerals ;  of  the  poor 

*  The  suburb  outside  the  DIpylon  gate  was  known  as  the  Outer 
Kcnimcikos  or  Potters'  Quarter. 


120         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

who  could  not  afford  a  decent  cremation,  he  could 
hardly  have  had  the  time  to  take  account. 

Not  far  from  here  was  a  field  which  was  the  pro- 
perty of  Perikles  and  in  which  many  of  his  family 
were  already  interred,  his  sister  and  his  other  two 
sons  having  lately  died  from  the  same  scourge.    And 
in  this  field  the  pyre  had  been  constructed.     When 
the  body  had  been  placed  upon  it,  and  the  final 
dispositions  made,  Perikles  came  forward  to  perform 
a  last  honour  to  the  dead.     His  stoicism  was  sorely 
shaken  by  this  last  bereavement,  the  loss  of  his  other 
sons  he  had  borne  with  remarkable  fortitude,  and 
had  hitherto  refused  to  assist  in  the  funeral  rites  or 
to  join  in  the  procession  to  the  grave.    But  at  the 
death  of  this  last  son  his  proud  spirit  was  subdued, 
and  though  he  endeavoured  even  now  to  maintain 
his  calm  behaviour  and  serenity  of  mind,  yet  when 
the  moment  came  for  him  to  place  a  garland  on  the 
brow  of  the  deceased,  his  courage  forsook  him  at  the 
sad  sight,  and,  says  Plutarch,  he  '  broke  out  into 
loud  lamentations  and  shed  a  torrent  of  tears.' 

The  friends  now  gathered  round  the  pyre,  and 
as  the  torch  was  set  beneath  the  timber,  and  the 
flames  shot  up,  they  threw  into  the  blaze  a  few 
small  offerings  modelled  from  bronze  or  clay,  minia- 
ture dolls,  birds,  dogs,  and  other  trifling  tokens  of 
farewell.      So  they  sped  him  as  a  traveller  is  sped 
upon  his  journey,  neglecting  no  provision  which 
might   make  that  journey  easy  or  agreeable.     In 
his   hand   had    been   placed   the   honey-cake   with 
which  to  appease  the  appetite  of  Kerberos,  and  in  ' 
his  mouth  (the  mouth  was  the  poor  man's  purse) 
he  carried  small  change  for  the  Stygian  ferry.     For 
the  Greeks  faced  the  thought  of  the  undiscovered 


A  FUNERAL 


121 


i 


country  with  a  strange  mixture  of  emotions,  hovering 
between  two  opinions,  on  the  one  hand  the  well- 
defined  certitude  of  a  superstitious  creed,  on  the 
other  a  hopeless  doubt.  At  best,  they  held  the  dead 
to  have  seen  his  happiest  days  :  he  would  never  enjoy 
more  the  scene  of  vivid  and  wholesome  sunlight 
flooding  the  Attic  plain,  nor  feel  in  his  bones 
its  cheerful  warmth.  Instead,  the  wan  light  of  a 
filmy  shadowland  would  feebly  illuminate  the 
aimless  flittings  of  his  unsubstantial  soul.  The 
single  luxury  of  Hades  was  to  remember  Earth. 

As  the  flames  died  presently  down,  the  human 
ashes  were  collected  out  of  the  smouldering  heap, 
well  soaked  in  wine,  and  placed  in  a  vase  or  coffer. 
This    was    finally   placed    beneath    the    earth    and 
covered  up.     When  time  served,  a  slab  of  white 
marble  would  be  set  to  mark  the  place,  and  on  it 
carved  the  figure  of  the  dead,  not,  as  was  the  way 
of  mediaeval  sculptors,  in  the  likeness  of  a  wasted 
corpse,  nor  even  as  a  sleeping  effigy,  but  rather  as 
he  had  been  in  the  full  vigour  of  manhood,  stripped 
for  wrestKng-bout,  or  making  ready  for  a  chase,  as 
if  to  perpetuate  in  death  the  happiest  moments  of 
his  life.     At  this  tomb  it  was  the  duty  of  the  next 
of  kin  to  make  frequent  offerings,  on  the  third  and 
ninth  day  after  the  burial,  and  again  at  the  ter- 
mination of  the  month's  mourning.     Year  by  year, 
too,  on  the  anniversaries  of  his  death  and  birthday, 
they  must  pay  visits  to  the  place.     They  were  very 
scrupulous  in  this  observance,  hanging  garlands  of 
leaves  ^  and  coloured  streamers  on  the  stone,  pouring 
from  long-necked  jars  a  libation  of  honey,  milk  and 
wine.     They  would  even  lay  out  and  ceremoniously 

1  Sometimes,  as  in  mgdern  cemeteries,  these  were  made  of  wax. 


122         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

burn  a  mimic  banquet,  under  the  pious  fancy  that 
the  soul  in  Hades  would  somehow  benefit  thereby. 
There  was  also  (as  there  is  even  now  in  Catholic 
countries)  an  All  Souls'  day,  set  specially  apart  for 
universal  mourning  and  celebration  of  the  dead. 
Indeed,  the  memory  of  a  brother  or  parent  was  to 
a  Greek  the  most  sacred  thing  on  earth,  and  he 
treated  with  respect  even  the  tomb  of  an  enemy. 

Meanwhile    the    funeral  party,  having  fulfilled 
their  task,  turned  back  to  the  city,  repairing  to  the 
house  of  Perikles,  where  a  repast  was  ready.     The 
mourners  were  not  sorry  to  break  their  prolonged 
fast,  and  a  certain   revulsion   of   feeling  was   not 
unnatural.     Before  the  company  dispersed,  Perikles 
himself  delivered  the  customary  speech  in  his  dead 
son's  honour — then  perhaps  he  recalled  with  bitter- 
ness the  words  he  used  to  other  mourners  in  days 
not  so  long  ago,  when  he  had  better  hopes  of  Athens  : 
* .  .  .  Though  it  be  a  hard  matter  to  dissuade  you 
from  sorrow  for  the  loss  of  that,  which  the  happiness 
of  others,  wherein  you  also,  when  time  was,  rejoiced 
yourselves,  shall  so  often  bring  into  your  remem- 
brance (for  sorrow  is  not  for  want  of  a  Good  never 
tasted,  but  for  the  privation  of  a  Good  we  have  been 
used  to),  yet  such  of  you  as  are  of  an  age  to  have 
children,  may  bear  the  loss  of  these,  in  the  hope  of 
more.  ...  As  for  you  who  are  past  the  age  of 
having  children,  you  are  to  put  the  former  and 
greater  part  of  your  Kfe  to  the  account  of  your  gain, 
and  supposing  the  remainder  of  it  will  be  but  short, 
you  shall  have  the  glory  of  these  for  a  consolation 
of  the  same.     For  the  love  of  glory  never  groweth 
old,  nor  doth  that  unprofitable  part  of  our  Hfe  take 
deUght  (as  some  have  said)  in  the  gathering  of  wealth, 


A  FUNERAL 


123 


so  much  as  it  doth  in  being  honoured.'  ^  Something, 
no  doubt,  he  had  to  say  of  the  dead  man's  life  and  of 
his  achievements :  of  his  death  he  would  say  little, 
and  of  what  followed  after  death  (now,  as  in  his 
great  oration)  not  a  word ;  and  if  he  smiled  when 
they  poured  a  hbation  to  the  spirit  of  the  dead,  it 
was  the  smile  of  a  philosopher,  not  the  sneer  of  a 
cynic. 

*  Squander  for  me  no  scent  of  myrrh  ! 
Spread  on  my  tomb  no  myrtle  ! 
Kindle  me  no  burning  pyre  ! 

What  purpose  in  such  waste  ? 
My  dust  will  turn  to  merest  mire, 

For  all  thy  wine  flow  purple. 
Give  the  living  his  desire  ! 

Dead  men  cannot  taste.'* 


*  Translation  by  Hobbes. 

*  Epigram  by  an  unknown  Greek. 


I 


XI.    OLYMPIA 

Sunt  quos  curriculo  pulverem  Olympicum 
Collegisse  juvat,  metaque  fervidis 
Evitata  rotis,  palmaque  nobilis 
Tcrrarum  dominos  evehit  ad  deos. 

Horace,  Odes. 

Down  the  road  from  Elis  there  had  hung  all  day 
long  a  cloud  of  dust,  astir  with  voices  and  the  sound 
of  trampling  feet.     It  arose  from  a  host  of  Greeks, 
miles  upon  miles  of  them,  straggUng  along,  on  foot 
or  m  saddle,  shuffling  through  the  deep  white  sand 
and  joking  and  jostling  and  gesticulating  as  they 
went,  as  merrily  as  ever  did  a  Derby  crowd  or  a 
Canterbury    pilgrimage.     Like    the    proselytes    at 
Pentecost  they  were  drawn  from  every  nation  under 
heaven.     All  the  world  '  from  Caria  to  Carthage ' 
was   there:    no   wonder   the   country-folk    of   Pisa 
and  of  Elis  stared  to  see  their  country  invaded  by 
strangers  from  the  Nile  or  grandees  from  the  court 
of  the  Great  King.     But  many  and  various  as  the 
pilgrims  were,  all  were  bound  alike  for  the  same  goal, 
and  as  day  wore  on,  even  the  peasants  ceased  from 
staring  and  set  off  in  the  wake  of  the  rest.     Up  a 
broad  valley  they  went,  leaving  the  sea  at  their  back, 
and  following  the  course  of  the  Alpheus,  as  it  wound 
this  way  and  that,  in  its  wide  stony  bed.     There 
were  hills  on  either  hand,  but  these  sparsely  wooded 
and  rising  to  no  great  height.     Among  them  the 
pilgrims  will  presently  catch  sight  of  a  landmark 
that  arrests  the  eye,  a  bare  conical  knoll  standing  up 


OLYMPIA 


125 


in  the  middle  of  the  valley,  and  a  furlong  or  so 
distant  from  the  river  bank.  At  the  foot  of  it 
something  flashes  in  the  sun,  and  presently  through 
the  haze  and  the  dust  there  comes  a  glimpse  of 
gilded  statues  on  a  gable  point  :  it  is  the  Great 
Temple  of  Olympian  Zeus. 

A  few  steps  more  and  they  are  in  the  centre  of  a 
giant  world's-fair  :  the  road  is  already  well  lined  with 
beggars   squatting  on  their  haunches  with  hands 
outstretched,   with   mountebanks   hawking   charms 
for  the  evil-eye,  or,  it  may  be,  pennyroyal  for  the 
cholic,  with  fortune-tellers  offering  the  oracles  of 
Bakis    scrawled    on    papyrus    slips ;     pedlars    with 
brooches,  scents  and  oil ;    boys  selling  long  strings 
of  dried  figs  spitted  on  a  reed.     Here  the  wine- 
vender  does  a  lively  trade,  and  hard  by  a  crowd  has 
gathered  to  watch  a  boy  acrobat  turning  somer- 
saults through  a  hoop.     A  conjurer  is  busy  produc- 
ing pebbles  from  an  astonished  rustic's  mouth.     A 
few  paces   farther  on  a  pale-faced  *  professor '  is 
mounted    up    on    a    three-legged    stool,    in    which 
precarious  posture  he  is  spouting  samples  of  his  own 
borabastic  essays.     His  audience  is  somewhat  dis- 
tracted by  a  pair  of  muscular  northerners,  who  are 
giving  a  performance  of  step-dancing  near  by ;  up 
and  down  they  go,  now  pirouetting  on  one  foot 
with  odd  excited  cries,  now  swaying  monotonously 
to  and  fro  to  the  drone  of  a  Theban  bagpipe.     In 
short,  there  is  every  kind  of  diversion  and  every  type 
of  man.     One  thing  alone  seems  wanting  :   there  is 
not  a  woman  to  be  seen.     For  the  female  sex  is 
forbidden  by  law  to  be  present  at  the  Festival. 

In  an  open  space  at  the  side  of  the  road  there  is  a 
great  activity,  much  hammering  of  tent-pegs,  and 


126        THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

much  quarrelling  and  discussion  over  the  pitching 
of  camp ;    no  one,  however,  is  so  busy  but  he  has 
the  leisure  to  stop  and  jeer  as  the  official  represen- 
tatives of  Megara  ^  jog  in  upon  their  mules,  or  stare 
at  Alkibiades  as  he  is  carried  past  lolling  in  his  sedan 
chair.     The  arrival  of  the  well-known  boxer  Auto- 
lykos  brings  untold  gratification  to  this  crowd.     He 
has  come  in  search  of  some  kinsmen  ;    and  as  he 
moves  through  the  encampment  a  group  of  admirers 
follow  him  about,  eager  to  pick  up  such  athletic 
gossip  as  he  deigns  to  dispense  to  them.     They 
hsten  with  growing  interest  to  each  fresh  recital  of 
the  story  which  he  has  to  tell  of  his  friend  the  boxer 
from  Sikyon,  who  was  ruled  out  of  the  Games  on  the 
ground  that  he  was  a  half-breed.     '  Name  of  the 
Dog,'  he  is  saying  for  the  twentieth  time ;  '  what 
may  a  man  pretend  to  know  if  he  knows  not  his 
own^  parentage !     And  a  pretty  pass,  surely,  for  a 
man's  word  to  be  called  in  question  by  these  meddle- 
some stewards  of  the  Games !     They  were  a  public 
nuisance  vv^ith  their  plaguey  rules  and  regulations. 
Why,  he  himself,  honest  man  as  ever  wore  the  glove, 
could  not  enter  for  the  Games  unless  he  should  pre- 
sent himself  at  Ehs  a  full  month's  space  in  advance 
and  endure  thirty  mortal  days  under  the  eye  of  these 
almighty  stewards,  pommelling  a  pigskin  full  of  sand, 
gnawing  raw  steaks,  and  never  getting  so  much  as 
a  sniff  at  a  pasty  all  the  time  !     Name  of  Herakles, 
but  they  laid  it  on  over  thick  ! ' 

Athletes  are  notorious  grumblers — and  having 
delivered  this  outburst  to  the  prodigious  edification 
of  the  company,  he  led  away  his  Athenian  friends 
to  view  the  wonders  of  the  place. 

1  The  Megarians  were  a  byword  of  folly  in  Greece. 


OLYMPIA 


127 


Within  the  Altis  or  Precinct,  they  admired  the 
Great  Temple  of  Zeus,  where  sat  the  God's  famous 
statue  whose  face  and  hands  were  of  ivory  and  whose 
mantle  was  of  beaten  gold.     His  head,  seated  as  he 
was  upon  his  throne,  touched  the  coffering  of  the 
roof,  and  such  was  the  splendour  of  his  presence  and 
the  majesty  of  his  brow  that  the  very  sight  of  him 
was  counted  a  Hberal  religious  education.     Round 
the  Temple  in  the  crowded  precinct  there  was  much 
else    to   see.     Here   stood   that   floating   figure   of 
Victory  raised  upon  a  high  column,  which  had  been 
newly  set  up  Ify  Athens'  allies  of  Naupaktos  at  the 
close  of  the  war.^    Here  was  also  the  very  ancient 
shrine  of  Hera,  which  men  said  was  well  worth  a  visit. 
What  its  antiquity  might  be  none  could  tell ;    but 
there  was  this  curious  fact  about  it  that  one  or  more 
of  its  columns  were  cut  out  of  wood,  a  relic  of  the 
original  structure,  harking  back  to  the  remote  times 
when  men  had  not  yet  learnt  to  build  in  stone. 
Within  its  walls  stood  the  Chest  of  Kypselos,  famous 
throughout  all  Greece,  and,  as  Homer  would  have 
said,  *  a  very  great  wonder  to  behold,'  but  the  mar- 
vellous legends  told  in  the  cunning  carving  of  its 
sides  it  was  by  this  time  too  dark  to  see,  and  it  is 
certainly  too  tedious  to  describe. 

In  the  dog-days,  when,  as  travellers  say,  Greece 
IS  one  great  oven,  Olympia  burns  at  a  white-heat. 
It  has  been  no  trifling  hardship  for  our  friends  to 
take  the  road  at  such  a  season,  and,  as  spectators  in 
the  stadion,  they  will  suffer  httle  less.  It  is  therefore 
a  welcome  respite  to  the  weary  travellers,  that  the 
day  following  upon  their  arrival  is  spent  in  mere 

.ul  fi  ^^'^  ^'"^^  ""^  ^'^'?'  ^"^'-    '^^^  monument  commemorated 
the  Atheman  victory  at  Pylos. 


128         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

preliminaries— Public    Sacrifice,    to    wit,    and  the 
draw    for   heats.     The    vast    crowd   thronged    the 
Altis  for  the  ceremony.     The  victims  were  slain, 
the  smoke  rolled  up  from  the  great  altar-slab,  and 
pubHc  prayers  were  offered  in  the  name  of  Greece. 
Here,  for  one  brief  interval,  the  citizens  of  all  Greek 
cities  forgot  their  feuds  and  rivalries,  and  felt  them- 
selves, in  the  bond  of  a  common  faith,  to  be  one 
people.     For  it  was  not  a  love  of  sport  merely  that 
had  brought  them  from  their  homes,  but  reverence 
for  a  festival  of  high  antiquity  and  deep  national 
significance.  1     Yet  all  this  is  soon  forgotten  when 
in    due    course    the    draw    begins.      Friends    and 
backers  of  the  rival  athletes  crowd  eagerly  round 
to  watch  the  judges  at  their  work.    For  when  heats 
and  finals  fall  both  on  one  day  (as  at  Olympia  they 
invariably   do)    victory  itself  may  hang  upon   the 
lucky  drawing  of  a  bye.     So  when  Autolykos  has 
drawn  the  letter  '  Pi,'  there  is  an  anxious  moment's 
waiting  till  it  is  understood  that  the  Spartan  has 
drawn  its  fellow ;   and  then  the  evening  is  spent  in 
forecasting  the  issue  of  the  fight. 

Youth  before  age  is  at  Olympia  the  order  of  pre- 
cedence, therefore  the  Second  Day  is  given  up  to 
events  for  boys.  The  programme  for  them  is  the 
same  as  for  men  (the  Pankration  alone,  on  account 
of  its  severity,  being  excepted),  and  a  victory  is 
so  highly  prized  that  when  Gnathon  ^  has  won  the 
Junior  Boxing,  his  Arkadian  supporters  vow  they  do 
not  care  a  fig  who  wins  the  senior  event  next  day. 

J  Connection  between  games  and  religion  is  somewhat  obscure.  Prob- 
ably these  trials  of  strength  were  a  ceremony  substituted  at  an  early 
date  for  the  older  practice  of  human  sacrifice. 

*  Most  of  the  names  which  are  here  given  to  the  victors  of  this 
year's  games  have  actually  come  down  to  us  in  written  records. 


OLYMPIA 


129 


Of  this  they  think  better,  no  doubt,  during  the 
night ;  for  when  the  Stadion  fills  again  next  day 
they  are  in  their  places  with  the  rest  and  no  one 
more  excited.  The  crowd  is  as  thick  as  flies  along 
the  earthen  banks  that  surround  the  course,  and 
late-comers  must  take  back  seats  on  the  knoll  known 
as  Kronos'  Hillock.  The  stewards  in  purple  robes, 
with,  branches  in  their  hands,  proceed  to  the  end  of 
the  Stadion,  and  there  seat  themselves  beneath  a 
gaily  coloured  awning,  and  thereupon  the  Men's 
Games  begin. 

First  Event  :  the  sprint  (200  yards).  This  is  the 
blue  ribbon  of  the  Games  and  the  winner  gives  his 
name  to  the  year.i  In  the  fresh  air  of  the  morning 
six  of  the  runners  strip,  and  take  their  places  between 
posts  set  in  a  long  stone  sill  that  runs  across  the 
course.  They  stand  there,  like  naked  swimmers 
ready  for  the  dive.  Their  feet  are  planted  close 
together  in  two  grooves  channelled  in  the  stone. 
One  of  the  stewards  stretches  a  cord  in  front  of 
them.  They  bend  forward  their  hands  upon  the 
ground. 

'  Away,'  shouts  the  steward,  dropping  the  cord. 
They  leap  forward  swinging  th^ir  arms  stiffly  hke 
joints  of  a  semaphore,  and  what  is  curious  to  remark, 
advaiicing  right  leg  and  right  arm  together  :  their 
progress  is  thus  a  series  not  of  steps,  but  springs,^ 
and  as  they  run,  they  lash  their  energies  and  waste 
their  breath  by  shouting  themselves  hoarse.  The 
winner,  so  a  poet  declared  in  a  laudatory  ode,  was 

'  Some  say  this  was  merely  because  it  came  first  on  the  list 
This  if  we  are  to  trust  the  vases.     Mr.  E.  Gardner  does  not.     The 
case  then  is  like  this :  of  two  things  one,  either  the  Greeks  did  not 
know  how  to  draw  or  they  did  not  know  how  to  run. 


130         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

scarcely  visible   between   the   start   and   finish,   so 
swift  had  been  his  transit. 

The  poet's  words  bore  perhaps  a  more  literal 
truth  than  he  intended,  for  the  runners,  running  as 
they  did  in  a  bed  of  sand,  ankle-deep,  raised  such  a 
cloud  of  dust,  that  the  spectators  could  see  little  of 
the  race,  and  as  heat  follows  heat  the  nuisance  only 
becomes  worse.  But  so  it  goes  on  till  the  Final  is 
reached,  and  the  victor's  name,  Exainetos  of  Akragas 
in  Sicily,  is  proclaimed  by  the  pubHc  crier. 

Then  follows  the  Double  Course— that  is,  to  the 
stone  sill  at  the  farther  end  and  back  again. 

The  Long  Race  next  :  It  measures  four-and- 
twenty  furlongs  at  the  very  least,  an  excellent  test 
of  a  man's  wind  and  useful  for  the  training  of  good 
soldiers  if  they  are  to  emulate  the  famous  charge 
of  Marathon.  Plato  in  later  days  thought  it  far  too 
short ;  his  ideal  test  would  have  taken  them  over 
ten  miles  of  ground,  and  that  the  roughest  available  : 
in  full  armour,  too,  if  he  could  have  had  his  way.i 
But  even  in  these  days  men  must  train  for  a  good 
six  months  beforehand,  submitting  to  massage  for 
their  muscles  and  enjoying  a  diet  which  consists 
almost  wholly  of  beef,  so  that  the  appetite  of  an 
athlete  is  proverbial.  2  The  style  in  the  long  race 
differs  widely  from  the  sprint.  They  keep  a  long, 
steady  stride,  with  elbows  well  into  the  ribs.  This 
suits  the  longer  distance  :  for  even  Pheidippides 
himself  could  never  have  reached  Sparta  had  he 
progressed  by  bounding  like  a  kangaroo. 

>  There  was  in  point  of  fact  a  Hoplite  race  at  Olympia  too,  run  with 
shield  and  helmet  on. 

2  The  Greeks  disliked  meat,  and  an  army  which  was  reduced  to  such 
a  diet  considered  itself  in  a  bad  way. 


OLYMPIA 


131 


Before  midday  the  running  is  over.     And  pres- 
ently some  men  enter  with  pickaxes  and  proceed 
to  break  up  the  hard  ground  in  the  centre  of  the 
course.     This   preparation   seems   to   indicate   the 
wrestUng  match,  and  sure  enough  the  wrestlers  enter 
in  due  course,  naked  and  oiled  like  sardines  from 
head  to  foot.     The  rest  of  the  crowd  will  sit  the 
whole  performance  out,  trial  rounds  and  all ;    but 
as  it  is  some  hours  now  since  early  morning,  let  us 
buy  from  the  boy  who  is  crying  fresh  rolls  for  sale, 
and  retire  to  eat  them  in  the  shade.     We  will  return 
for  the  final  bout.     In  this  Eumolpos  of  Megara 
is  to  meet  Kallias  of  Corinth.     Had  we  been  here 
a  short  while  back,  we  should  have  seen  Kallias  hard 
put  to  it  in  beating  Eukrates  of  Athens  :    this  has 
given  a  breathing  space  to  Eumolpos,  his  present 
rival,  who  had  merely  to  wait  standing  near  *  at 
attention,'  the  conventional  attitude  of  the  '  bye.' 
Little  wonder,  then,  that  Kallias,  being  tired,  is  on 
his  guard  and  hangs  back  when  the  signal  is  given, 
manoeuvring   for   a  hold  ;    as   they  stoop  forward, 
walking  on  their  toes,  the  two  give  sharp  grunts 
and  cries,  as  Japanese  wrestlers  do.     These  dilatory 
tactics  last  some  while,  and  when  at  last  they  close, 
both  fall  simultaneously  to  their  knees,  and  the  bout 
is  declared  drawn.     The  second  and  the  third  bouts 
go  to  Eumolpos ;  and  in  the  fourth,  Kallias  is  more 
than    ever    loath    to    close.      Presently,    however, 
Eumolpos  catches  his  wrist,  then  rapidly  turns  his 
back  upon  him  and  in  a  trice  draws  the  other's  arm 
over  his  shoulder.     Another  instant,  and  by  bend- 
ing sharply  forward  he  shoots  the  whole  man  clean 
over  his  head,  as  a  labourer  might  throw  a  sack 
of  potatoes  from  his  back.     As  a  result  the  other 


132 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


is  sent  sprawling  in  the  sand.  This  dexterous  throw 
wins  the  prize  and  much  applause  into  the  bargain. 
A  master-potter  went  home  and  put  it  on  a  vase — 
where,  if  you  visit  the  British  Museum,  you  may 
see  it  to  this  day.  Modern  wrestlers  also  use  the 
throw,  calling  it  the  Flying  Mare. 

The  day  is  now  at  its  hottest ;  but  Greeks  do  not 
repine  :    on  the  contrary,  they  warm  to  their  work. 
Sport  was  for  them  something  more  than  a  mere 
pastime,  and  if  it  was  a  pleasure,  it  was  at  least  a 
grim  one.     Boxing,  according  to  their  notions,  was 
meant  as  a  test  of  endurance  rather  than  of  skill. 
Therefore  when  they  arranged  the  programme  at 
Olympia,  and  fixed  the  boxing  not  for  the  cool  of 
the  evening,  but  for  the  heat  of  noon,  they  did  it 
of  set  purpose.     It  is  the  toughest  man  who  wins ; 
and  often  men  would  die  rather  than  consent  to 
raise   a   finger   and  thereby   admit   defeat.     All   is 
designed  to  make  the  combat  as  severe  as  possible. 
These  leather  strips,  known  whimsically  enough  as 
*  soothers,'  are  twisted  round  hands  and  forearm, 
merely  with  the  purpose  of  saving  the  knuckles,  and 
with  no  idea  of  softening  the  blow.     It  is  true  that 
the  thongs  were  not  at  this  period  studded  with 
metal   knobs  :     for   the   Greeks   were   not    brutal, 
though   they   were   austere.     The   caps,   however, 
which  in  the  gymnasium  are  worn  to  protect  the 
ears,  are  now  discarded.     As  the  champions  face 
each  other,  there  is  something  very  like  murder  in 
their  eyes ;    there  is  nothing  soft  or  friendly  about 
the  sportsmanship  of  Greeks,  and  there  is  no  pre- 
liminary shaking  of  hands.     Two  seconds  stand  by 
to  see  fair  play.     It  is  well  that  they  carry  forked 
staves  in  their  hands. 


OLYMPIA 


133 


Tactics  have  altered  Httle  since  Odysseus  boxed 
with  the  beggar  Iros  in  the  courtyard  of  his  palace. 
There  is  some  manoeuvring  to  get  the  sunlight  in 
the  other's  eyes ;  but  apart  from  that,  foot  work  is 
hardly  used.  They  stand  somewhat  astraddle,  the 
left  foot  shghtly  advanced.  Instead  of  rapid  sparr- 
ing or  lunging  straight  from  the  shoulder,  they  deal 
long  swinging  blows,  sideways  and  directed  down 
upon  their  opponent's  head.  Their  arms  are  held 
at  full  stretch,  and  the  fists  half  clenched.  It  is  a 
veritable  '  mill '  ;  compared  with  modern  boxing 
the  tactics  are  as  the  sabre  to  the  foil.  The  blows 
are  aimed  almost  entirely  at  the  head  ;  there  is  Httle 
body  work.  Indeed  a  prominent  stomach  is  counted 
an  advantage,  since  by  so  much  the  more  is  it 
difficult  to  reach  the  owner's  face.  We  need  not 
wait  for  the  finish  ;  it  will  take  some  time  and  it  is 
not  a  lovely  sight.  Besides,  if  such  scenes  are  to  our 
mind,  we  shall  have  our  fill  presently  at  the  rough- 
and-tumble  fight  known  as  the  Pankration. 

This   is   a   barbaric   form   of   sport.     A   learned 
preacher,  who  ought  to  have  known  better,  once 
entered  upon  a  description  of  the  game  of  Rugby 
football :   that  was  played,  as  he  averred,  between 
four  boundary  hues,  within  which  Umits  everything 
was  fair.     There  is   only  one  game  which   might 
properly  be  so  described:  and  that  is  the  Greek 
Pankration.     Short  of  biting  or  gouging  out  his 
eyes,  a  man  may  assail  his  opponent  as  best  he  can, 
break  his  fingers,  squeeze  his  windpipe,  twist  his 
arm,  or  kick  his  stomach  until  he  admits  defeat  by 
the  raising  of  his  hand.     The  Pankratist  differs  from 
the  boxer  in  physical  development.     He  needs  to  be 
tough  and  short.     One  champion  was  known  as  the 


134         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

Dumb-bell  on  account  of  his  proportions.  But  it 
was  a  bad  training  for  the  purposes  of  ordinary  Ufe, 
and  some  cities  forbade  the  practice  of  it,  at  any 
rate  to  boys.  When  one  champion  faces  another,  his 
first  object  is  to  get  him  down  to  the  ground. 
Some  would  seize  him  by  the  heel,  but  Andros- 
thenes,  who  was  winner  in  the  last  Games  of  four 
years  ago,  has  another  stratagem  to-day.  As  they 
come  to  grips,  he  dehberately  falls  backwards — as 
he  does  so  he  plants  one  foot  firmly  in  his  opponent's 
stomach—then,  while  he  sinks  to  the  ground  him- 
self, he  hfts  the  man  clean  oil  the  ground,  giving 
him  a  somersault  right  over  his  head,  and  whereas 
Androsthenes  rolls  gently  over  on  the  sand,  the  other 
lands  head  foremost  with  a  fearful  crash. 

Then  follows  a  long  and  panting  struggle  on  the 
ground.  The  shadows  of  Mount  Kronos  lengthen  ; 
twilight  comes  on  ;  and  still  they  are  rolling  in  the 
dust.  At  length  Autolykos,  who  has  the  other's  head 
in  chancery,  and  seems  to  be  throtthng  him,  sud- 
denly gives  in  to  the  agony  of  a  broken  toe,  and 
raises  his  finger.  He  rises  defeated  ;  the  victor  still 
lies  on  the  sand.  The  umpire  prods  him  with  his 
stick,  but  he  does  not  move.  They  turn  him  over. 
Androsthenes  has  been  dead  already  some  minutes 
since. 

Next  day  the  only  event  which  takes  place  in  the 
stadion  is  the  Pentathlon  or  championship  in  five 
events.  'The  Quoit,  the  Sprint,  the  Wresthng 
Match,  the  JaveKn  and  the  Leap,'  as  a  poet  once 
put  it. 

The  leap,  to  take  the  last  first,  is  of  course  the 
Long  Jump.  There  is  no  high  jumping  in  Greece. 
The  competitors  take  only  a  step  or  two  by  way  of 


OLYMPIA 


135 


run  ;  in  either  hand  they  hold  large  oval  stones 
pierced  in  the  centre  like  a  primitive  axe-head ; 
these  they  call  halteres  or  *  jumpers.'  Just  before 
the  leap  a  man  swings  his  arms  violently  back,  slightly 
bending  the  legs  at  the  knee.  Then,  as  the  arms 
swing  forward,  he  makes  the  spring.  While  he  is 
still  in  mid-aix  and  just  on  the  point  of  alighting,  he 
once  more  brings  his  arms  into  play,  jerking  them 
back  so  as  to  give  a  last  impetus  to  his  flight  through 
the  air.  This  time  he  allows  the  jumpers  to  leave 
his  hand.  They  have  helped  him  materially  by 
aid  of  this  twofold  swing.  The  stewards  now 
measure  with  their  rod  the  length  of  the  jump. 
The  soil  has  been  prepared  with  a  pick,  and  the  dent 
made  by  the  heels  is  easily  visible. 

The  quoit  is  a  flat  disc  of  metal.  The  method  of 
throwing  it  is  intricate  and  is  also  worth  describing. 
Holding  the  quoit  in  the  right  hand  the  thrower 
swings  it  backwards  till  his  hand  is  almost  on  a  level 
with  his  shoulder.  His  right  foot  is  at  the  same 
moment  advanced.^  Then  the  quoit  arm  descends 
with  a  sweeping  swing  underhand  ^nd  his  whole 
weight  is  thrown  forward  on  to  the  left  leg,  which 
is  now  in  its  turn  advanced.  As  the  hurl  is  made 
a  great  Hft  is  gained  by  suddenly  straightening  the 
body,  thrusting  from  the  thigh  off  the  advanced 
left  foot.  Distance  is  all  that  matters ;  direction  is 
of  no  importance.  Quoit-throwing  must  indeed 
have  been  a  serious  danger  to  bystanders. 

In  javelin-throwing,  on  the  other  hand,  direction 
was  the  chief  object  :  even  greater  accuracy  was 
attained  by  winding  a  strap  round  the  shaft  :    a 

*  This  is  the  position  depicted  in  Myron's  « Diskobolos  '—really  a 
pose  of  momentary  rest. 


'f 


136         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

rotatory  motion  was  thus  imparted,  similar  to  that 
which  the  rifling  of  the  barrel  gives  a  bullet.  Even 
so,  spectators  were  sometimes  killed.  The  quoit, 
one  would  think,  must  have  done  still  greater 
execution.^ 

Whoever  wins  most  events  in  this  Five  Tests 
Championship  is  declared  victor.  In  the  case  of  a 
tie  there  must  be  further  trials.  There  was  once 
a  young  man  called  Phayllos  who  jumped  fifty-five 
feet,  landing  beyond  the  pit  and  breaking  his  leg  ! 
As  he  had  already  put  the  diskos  ninety-five  feet,  he 
deserved  to  win  on  those  two  events  alone  :  for  he 
must  have  been  an  altogether  remarkable  young 
man. 

In  the  Stadion  the  race  is  to  the  swift  and  the 
battle    to    the    strong,    but   in   the    Hippodrome 
victory  goes  to  the  rich.     While  the  charioteer  is 
risking  hfe  and  hmb  round  those  perilous  turning 
points,   the   owner  lolls   at  his   ease   on   a   purple 
tapestry,   lays   odds   with  his   neighbour   that  his 
'  Koppa-brand  '  can  last  the  course,  and  then,  when 
all  is  over,  steps  in  and  claims  the  honour.     The 
more  he  spends  on  his  horses  the  better  his  chance 
of  victory.     Alkibiades,  for  instance,  at  this  very 
moment  can  lay  claim  to  no  less  than  seven  out  of 
the  teams  that  are  now  chafing  in  the  starting-boxes, 
impatient  for  the  dropping  of  the  rope.     The  crowd 
have  left  the   Stadion  and  gathered  in   the  race- 
course.    Soon   they  see  a   slave   set   up   a   bronze 
dolphin  on  a  central  pillar,  and  at  that  signal  the 
drivers   shake   out   their   reins,   and   they   are   off. 
Their  long  robes  that  fall  about  their  feet   soon 

»  Instances  of  accidents  to  spectators  from  quoits  occur  even  amone 
the  legends  of  heroic  times. 


OLYMPIA 


137 


flutter  out  behind,  and  the  dust  is  whirling  from 
the  wheels.  They  crane  out  over  their  four-in- 
hand,  leaning  forward  from  the  flimsy  rail  of  their 
bounding  chariots.  Eleven  times  they  round  the 
two  turning-posts,  and  then  a  trumpet  sounds  the 
last  lap,  and  an  eagle  takes  the  dolphin's  place  on  the 
column. 

A  chariot  race  is  largely  decided  by  the  survival 
of  the  fittest.  Before  the  last  lap  is  begun  five  of 
the  chariots  have  fallen  victims  to  some  accident 
at  one  or  other  of  the  twenty  turns  already  accom- 
plished. As  the  survivors  gallop  past  the  winning- 
post,  three  of  Alkibiades'  teams  are  among  the  first 
four.  The  Athenians  are  half  mad  with  joy.  The 
young  Athenian  made  his  compatriots  a  feast  that 
night.^  It  was  a  memorable  and  sumptuous  ban- 
quet :  not  least  because  Alkibiades  had  borrowed 
of  the  representatives  of  Athens  large  quantities 
of  the  ofiicial  plate.  There  was  good  cheer  for  all, 
and  Alkibiades  sat  at  the  head  on  a  very  conspicuous 
couch,  drinking  with  his  friends  and  boasting  of  his 
victory.  He  vowed  that  Euripides  himself  should 
write  an  ode  in  honour  of  it  :  as  came  to  pass. 
Indeed  the  young  man's  head  was  somewhat  turned, 
but  the  height  of  his  infatuation  was  reached  when 
the  ofiicial  plate  was  needed  for  the  Grand  Pro- 
cession of  the  following  day,  and  he  firmly  refused 
to  give  it  up. 

For  the  morrow  is  the  last  day  of  the  great 
festival,  in  the  course  of  which  each  victor  will  come 
to  be  crowned  by  the  Stewards  of  the  Games.    Then 

*  There  were  other  horse-races  for  pairs,  etc.,  which  it  would  be  tedious 
to  enumerate.  There  also  was  a  prize  for  trumpeting  j  one  is  reminded 
of  the  piping  at  Highland  games,  in  many  ways  so  like  the  Olympian. 


138         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

he  will  depart  to  his  own  city,  and  there  it  is  that 
he  will  enter  upon  the  full  fruits  of  his  success. 
1  here  he  will  he  hailed  more  as  a  god  than  a  man. 
1  he  whole  city  will  turn  out  to  greet  him  and  hang 
garlands  on  his  neck.  He  wiU  receive  large  sums 
of  money  and  enjoy  free  meals  at  the  City  Hall  for 
the  rest  of  his  life— and  possibly  the  post  of  honour 
on  the  battlefield.  Sculptors  will  perpetuate  the 
perfection  of  his  muscular  development.  Poets  in 
their  panegyrics  wiU  devise  for  him  some  fabulous 
descent  from  the  heroes  of  olden  time. 

Meanwhile  in  the  Stadion  at  Olympia  he  is  to  be 
crowned.     There  are  first  processions  and  strewing 
of   rose-petals    and   banquets.      But   the   supreme 
moment  comes  when  he  stands  upon  a  tripod  before 
the  stewards,  ribands  traihng  from  his  neck  and 
arms,  his  head   modestly  inchned,   and  his  hmbs 
ghstening  m  the  sun.     It  is  a  fine  sight ;   one  could 
almost  fancy  that  the  statue  which  after  his  last 
victory  Polykleitos    made    of  him   and   set  up  in 
the  Altis,  had  positively  come  to  life  and  stepped 
down  from  its  pedestal.     The  herald  pronounces 
his  name,  adding  his  father  and  his  country ;    the 
stewards  place  on  his  head  a  crown  gathered  with 
a  golden  sickle  from  the  wild  olive-tree  that  stands 
by  Aphlfcdite's  shrine.     He  has  reached  the  limits 
of  this  world's  ambitions.     'Die,  Diagoras!    Life 
has  nothing  more  to  give.' 

So  the  festival  ends— the  ninety-first  since  the 
institution  of  the  Games.  The  Sacred  Truce,  under 
which  Spartan  and  Athenian  had  sat  cheek  by  jowl 
in  perfect  amity  for  four  whole  days,  is  now  declared 
closed.  At  the  last  festival  from  which  the  Spartans 
had  been  excluded,  threats  and  fears  of  hostihties 


OLYMPIA 


139 


hung  over  the  whole  affair  like  a  cloud  :  this  time 
all  had  passed  off  as  peaceably  as  could  be — ^yet  before 
another  four  years  are  over  and  the  festival  comes 
round  again,  Greece  will  be  racked  once  more  from 
end  to  end  by  the  old  unforgotten  feud. 


i 


THE  DIONYSIAC  THEATRE 

On  the  right  rise  the  sheer  clifFs  of  the  southern 
side  of  the  Akropolis.  The  Parthenon  would  be  almost 
directly  overhead.  Below  the  auditorium  may  be  seen  the 
orchestra  or  dancing-ring,  with  its  smoking  altar,  the  stage 
buildings,  and  the  Temple  and  sacred  Close  of  Dionysos 
Beyond  these  are  the  Museum  Hill,  the  Long  Walls  run- 
ning to  Peiraieus,  Salamis  and  Mount  Aigaleos,  stretching 
across  the  horizon.  ^ 


i\ 


< 


< 

1—4 

O 


XII.  THE  GREAT  DIONYSIA 

*  This  may  be  very  well  j  but  for  my  part  I  prefer  the  smell  of  a 
flambeau  at  the  play-house.' — Bos  well. 


To  keep  a  School  of  Wrestling  was  at  Athens  no 
unprofitable  business  :  therefore  Taureas  was  rich. 
Yet  for  all  that  Taureas  was  a  miser.  So  stingy  had 
he  grown  that  he  grudged  even  the  poor  grammar 
teacher  his  pittance,  and  would  keep  his  sons  at  home 
for  the  whole  month  of  Anthesterion  because,  as  he 
said,  it  was  more  than  half  holy-days.  And  when 
the  month  following  the  Dionysia  came  round, 
rather  than  pay  two  obols  to  see  the  plays,  he  would 
stand  a  whole  forenoon  in  the  sweating  crowd  to 
secure  a  free  ticket.-^  Public  duties  were  an  abomi- 
nation to  him  ;  and  whereas  poorer  men  than  he 
had  often  paid  the  cost  of  producing  a  tragedy,  he 
had  somehow  shirked  it  with  unfailing  regularity. 
In  fact,  had  an  oracle  from  Apollo  himself  announced 
that  Taureas  was  about  to  undertake  that  costly 
function,  not  a  soul  in  Athens  would  have  believed 
it,  and  least  of  all  Taureas  himself.  Yet  such  was 
indeed  the  case. 

How  he  came  to  accept  it,  nobody  knew.  For 
when  first  the  archon  selected  his  name  from  the 
list  of  the  wealthier  citizens,  his  indignation  kijew 

*  These  were  provided  out  of  a  public  fund  called  the  Thcoric 
Fund  :  the  richer  citizen  preferred  to  pay  for  his  ticket.  Compare  the 
cheap  or  gratuitous  performances  that  are  given  from  time  to  time  in 
Parisian  theatres. 

141 


I 


I 


I 


142         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

rJ""'- ■  •,  "^  "^^^K^i  ^^^*  ^^  ^°"^d  exercise  his 

fei-C^  ^^\'°'^  '^''^?S"  ^'^  ^^^1%  neighbour 
Nausikydes  either  to  undertake  the  function  in  his 

Tcrlr   °TT  !f  ^°.^^^¥"g^  properties  with  him  out- 
tS^\.V''  1!"  *^T  ""[fi^mstances  it  was  long  odds, 
thought  he,  that  Nausikydes  would  accept  the  former 
alternanve  and  he  himself  be  rid  of  aU  responsibiSy 
Hut  suddenly,  and  without  apparent  reason,  Taureas 
altered  h^  tune.     Maybe  he  was  so  advised  by  the 
wizard  who  sat  at  the  Dipylon  gate  and  told  men's 
fortunes  by  the  aid  of  geometrical  diagrams  aSd 
dreams-for  Taureas  habituaUy  consulted  him,  being, 
like  most  misers,  superstitious  beyond  measure-^^ 
maybe   again   he  had  schemes   of   revenge   upon 
AUcibiades  who,  it  transpired,  was  also  to  finance  a 
tragedy-for  between  him  and  Taureas  there  was  no 
love  lost-whatever,  m  short,  was  the  true  motive  of 
his  determination,  it  remained  a  fact  that  Taureas  was 
to  act  choregos  (as  the  phrase  went)  with  Alkibiades 
and  one  other  at  the  Great  Festival  in  the  spring 

It  came  about  in  due  course  that  the  archon 
having  selected  three  playwrights  also,  summoned 
the  three  producers  to  take  their  pick  of  them 
And  Taureas  drawing  the  first  lot,  was  mightily 
pleased  to  secure  Agathon.^  Not  that  he  knew  much 
about  Agathon's  verse,  but  he  held  that  his  name 
was  a  great  omen  of  success,  and  the  battle  was 
therefore  half  won  at  the  start.  When  however 
came  to  drawing  for  actors  (which  the  State  pro- 

hti  "'"^'^^^'i'  P'°'^'''"'  '°  ^^^'^  ^f^^^  the  chorus) 

began.     For  when  the  actors  were  assigned  their 

*  Agathos,'  signifying  good,  was  naturally  connf^M  o  ,^.     v 
by  a  race  which  attachelfreaU.portance  l^sXriflinT^^^^^^^^ 


THE  GREAT  DIONYSIA 


143 


parts  the  fellow  who  was  cast  for  Phoebos  Apollo 
in  the  prologue  gave  himself  airs,  and  declined  to 
reappear  in  the  great  '  Recognition  Scene  '  as  the 
Baby's  Nurse/  so  that  the  whole  play  seemed  likely 
to  be  wrecked. 

X^Hiile  this  difficulty  was  being  settled,  the  pre- 
paration of  dresses  and  scenery  went  forward.  Cloth 
from  Cyprus,  embroideries  from  Susa,  purple 
from  Sidon,  golden  ornaments  from  Thrace  : 
Taureas'  extravagance  was  the  wonderment  of 
Athens.  The  masks  were  being  painted  by  the  hand 
of  the  master-painter  ApoUodoros  himself.  As  for 
the  composition  of  the  choir,  such  a  superior  set  of 
voices  had  not  been  known  for  years.  It  was  said, 
too,  that  they  knew  their  dance  figures  to  perfection  : 
for  had  not  Kinesias  himself  been  hired  to  train 
them  ?  He  was  a  choir-master  and  minor  poet  to 
boot,  and  had  composed,  it  was  said,  a  sword  dance 
of  his  own.  In  short,  Taureas  had  good  reason  to  be 
proud  of  his  chorus  of  *  Theban  elders '  (for  it  was 
in  that  role  they  were  to  appear),  and  boasted  so 
insufferably  of  their  perfection  that  Panaetios  the 
Ape  started  a  rumour  in  the  barber's  shop  that  to 
cultivate  the  true  Boeotian  mellowness  of  voice 
they  were  being  dieted  exclusively  upon  eels  from 
a  Boeotian  lake.  And  though  it  was  manifestly 
absurd,  since  in  war  time  no  such  eels  could  come 
from  those  parts,  the  Theban  voice  moreover  being 
far  from  mellow,  yet  it  was  true  enough  that  Taureas 
grudged  them  no  delicacy  and  stinted  no  expense. 
First  and  last  it  would  cost  him,  he  said,  a  mint  of 

*  The  number  of  actors  employed  in  a  play  being  fixed  by  law,  it 
was  often  necessary  for  each  actor  to  perform  in  more  than  one  character. 
This  rule  may  have  been  made  to  equalise  the  chances  of  the  com- 
petitors and  give  no  undue  advantage  to  a  rich  choregos. 


144         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

money — thirty  minae,  or  half  a  year's  income  at  the 
least.^ 

Then  came  the  great  rehearsal.     It  took  place  in 
a  building  which  they  called  the  Hall  of  Song  or 
Odeion.     All  the   chief  officials  were  there,   and 
Taureas  marked  their  satisfaction  with  unconcealed 
delight.     Agathon  had  written,  Heaven  be  praised  ! 
no  tedious  Aeschylean  trilogy  with  a  continuous 
plot,  but  three  distinct  and  separate  tragedies,  and 
there  was  a  short  *  tragedy-comedy  '  following  to 
round  them  off,  as  the  Bergamask  dance  followed 
on    Bottom's    tragedy   of    Pyramus    and    Thisbe,^ 
Each  of  the  tragedies  dealt  with  a  popular  myth,  and 
Taureas  was  more  than  satisfied  with  each.     He 
would  indeed  have  had  the  poet  change  a  prologue 
and  shorten  a  messenger's  speech ;    but  the  fellow 
was  as  proud  as  Perikles  since  he  had  won  a  prize  at 
the  local  festival  at  Peiraieus.     But  no  matter,  the 
final  speech  in  praise  of  Theseus  atoned  for  all  minor 
imperfections  :    there  was  a  fine  patriotic  ring  in 
those  last  lines.     If  that  speech  were  fresh  in  the 
judges'  minds  when  they  came  to  cast  their  votes, 
all  would  yet  be  well.     Taureas  offered  up  a  secret 
prayer  to  Dionysos  that  his  own  plays  might  come 
on  the  third  day  and  last  of  the  three  competitors. 
And  when  the  eve  of  the  festival  came  and  the  image 

*  30  minae  =  3ooo  drachmae  (3000  francs  or  ^120).  The  pro- 
fessional class  at  Athens  (teachers  of  music,  grammar,  gymnastics,  etc.) 
earned  at  lowest  about  ^70  per  annum.  A  capitalist  or  landowner 
would  do  better.  A  rich  banker  like  Pasion,  with  a  capital  of  40  or 
50  talents  ( I  talent  =  60  minae  =  ^240),  must  have  reaped  an  income  of 
well  over  ^1000  per  annum,  the  current  rate  of  interest  being  one 
drachma  on  a  mma,  or  i  per  cent,  mont/ily  (=  12  per  cent,  per  annum). 
Money  had  of  course  four  or  five  times  its  present  power  of  purchase. 

*  Of  the  Satyric  drama,  which  was  an  integral  part  of  the  coarser 
elements  of  Bacchic  worship,  no  fuller  account  need  here  be  given. 


THE  GREAT  DIONYSIA 


HS 


of  the  god  was  taken  from  his  shrine  and  borne  into 
the  adjacent  theatre  with  torches  and  merriment 
and  dancing,  Taureas  in  the  thrill  of  the  moment 
vowed  to  Dionysos  a  pair  of  yearUng  goats,  as  a 
backing  to  that  prayer. 

Nor  was  this  vow  in  vain.  It  was  duly  announced 
that  the  plays  of  Agathon  should  be  presented  on 
the  third  and  final  day.  For  two  days,  therefore, 
Taureas  must  sit  idly  by,  spectator  of  the  gay 
familiar  scene,  the  citizens  thronging  in  at  dawn, 
the  bright  colours  of  holiday  dresses,  saffron-yellows, 
brick-reds,  and  brown  of  every  shade,  the  vine-leaf 
crown  on  every  head,  the  eager  scramble  for  seats,  the 
pompous  entry  of  the  archons  and  the  priests,  the 
train  of  envoys  bearing  Tribute  from  all  the  cities 
of  the  League,  the  cheers  that  greeted  Alkibiades, 
the  coarse  jokes  and  the  careless  laughter — and  then 
the  Herald's  call  for  silence  and  the  sacrifice  to 
Bacchos.  In  a  twinkling  the  jovial  crowd  was  as 
solemn  as  the  dead.  When  the  ritual  was  finished 
various  proclamations  were  made,  of  the  price  set 
upon  some  criminal's  head,  or  special  honour  voted 
to  some  benefactor  of  the  state,  or  of  privileges 
conferred  on  some  fallen  soldier's  sons.  Then  at 
last  the  competitions  could  begin.  First  the  choirs 
of  boys  that  danced  and  sang ;  then  choirs  of  men 
that  sang  and  danced.  But  for  these  Taureas  cared 
little  and  never  gave  a  thought  which  tribe  should 
He  was  waiting  for  the  moment  when  the 


wm. 


Herald  rose  and  cried,  '  Let  Alkibiades  lead  his 
chorus  on.'  Then  indeed  he  hstened  with  all  his 
might,  weighing  the  merit  of  his  rival's  plays  and 
calculating  his  chances  against  Alkibiades.  The 
plays  were  long,  and  as  gloomy  as  tragedies  could 

K 


/ 


^ 


146         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

be ;  the  audience  was  sad  and  silent,  and  sat  with 
puckered  brows.  Then  at  length  followed  a  comedy, 
this  by  Aristophanes,  and  every  one  was  merry  again, 
and  cheered,  and  so  departed.  And  so  once  more 
the  second  day.  The  plays  this  time  were  bad ; 
every  one  acknowledged  as  much,  and  Taureas, 
thinldng  of  the  morrow,  heeded  them  as  little  as  the 
great  clouds  which  March  winds  were  sweeping 
down  the  sky. 

He  rose  betimes  on  this  morning  ;    his  toilette 
was  lengthy  and  punctihous.     Yet  when  he  reached 
the  Green  Room  at  the  back  of  the  stage,  day  had 
not  yet  dawned.     The  great  hollow  semicircle  of 
seats  stood  empty  but  for  a   single  figure  in  the 
second  tier.     The  early-comer  was   free  of  every 
seat,  since  none  but  the  front  row  were  reserved,  so 
any  man  gifted  with  the  patience  of  our  enter- 
prising friend  might  occupy  the  bench  next  to  the 
marshals  for  his  pains.     Soon,  however,  others  begin 
to  pour  in  from  the  openings  to  right  and  left  into 
the  Dancing  Ring,  and  the  space  before  the  stage  is 
soon  choked  with  figures  that  hurry  and  spread, 
clambering  up  the  narrow  gangways,  which  radiate 
out  like  the  spokes  in  a  wheel.     Little  by  Uttle  the 
tiers  begin  to  be  peopled,  up  and  back,  seventy — 
eighty — ninety  yards  from  the  stage.     Thousands 
are  there  and  still  they  come  ;    it  is  a  strange,  ill- 
assorted  crowd — there  are  wits  from  the  market- 
place, yokels  from  Hymettos ;    there  are  athletes 
from  Sicily,  merchants  from  Pontus,  professors  from 
Rhodes ;  there  are  dandies  be-ringed  and  be-scented ; 
there   are   mangy  jail-birds   on  hohday   ticket-of- 
leave  ;    there  are  nabobs  from  the  East  with  em- 
broidered cushions  to  sit  on  and  carpets  for  their 


THE  GREAT  DIONYSIA 


H7 


feet ;  and  there  is  the  thrifty  Ktesias  squatting  in 
his  shirt  for  fear  the  stone  should  fray  his  cloak ; 
there  are  generals,  magistrates  and  poets,  and  poH- 
ticians  and  philosophers.  Not  a  few  there  bear 
immortal  names.  Was  there  ever  such  a  gathering 
of  genius  in  the  history  of  the  world  ? 

*  Art,  science,  wit, 

Soldiers  like  Caesar, 
Statesmen  like  Pitt, 

Sculptors  like  Phcidias, 
Raphaels  in  shoals. 

Poets  like  Shakespeare, 
Beautiful  souls.' 

Now  Alkibiades  too  has  entered  ;  to-day  in  his 
insolence  he  wears  a  briUiant  purple  robe— and  last 
of  all,  wnen  the  rest  are  seated,  panting  up  the  steps, 
and  gently  urged  from  behind  by  the  usher's  white 
wand,  comes  the  '  mighty  bulk  of  Kleonymos.'  He 
thrusts  his  huge  carcase  into  the  topmost  tier  where 
the  seats  are  carved  from  the  rock  of  the  Akropolis 
chflp,  and  places  his  cushion  without  more  ceremony 
between  a  staid  old  gentleman  and  a  disappointed 
dramatist.  Panaetios  the  buffoon  was  sitting  near  : 
the  coraing  of  the  fat  man  was  a  godsend  to  the  wit. 
'There's  your  greedy  glutton,'  he  jeered,  'even 
a-playgoing  down  he  must  sit  where  the  priests 
throw  the  offal  down  the  rocks,  if  so  be  a  lucky  tit- 
bit may  light  upon  his  lap.'  This  saUy  was  lost 
amid  the  protests  from  both  dramatist  and  farmer 
between  whom  Kleonymos  had  just  sat  down. 
'  Save  us,'  cried  the  latter,  '  how  many  roods  here- 
abouts have  thy  two  obols  bought  thee  ? ' 

*  Are  we  to  sit  in  close  order,  sir,  like  kilted  men-at- 
arms  ?  * 


^ 


N! 


1 


148         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

'Aye,  closer  order  than  at  Delion,  I  'U  be  bound,' 
put  in  Panaetios,  harping  on  the  old  famihar  joke. 
*  Give  me  my  due,  master,  give  me  my  cubit,* 
cried  the  farmer,  panting  for  air,  '  or,  by  Zeus,  I  '11 
have  the  law  of  thee.' 

A  blear-eyed  sophist  sitting  below  here  saw  his 
chance :  ^  Shall  I  prove  for  thee  that  thou  art 
wronged  of  thy  right,  and  show  how  thou  mayst 
be  righted  of  thy  wrong  ?  For  a  trifling  fee,'  he 
added,  but  seeing  his  offer  wasted,  yet  wishing  to 
display  his  skill,  the  fellow  went  on  :  '  The  measure 
of  all,  you  will  grant  me,  is  the  Man.  Now  the 
measure  of  the  playgoer  is  the  measure  of  his  .  .  .' 
*0  Dionysos,'  groaned  the  unhappy  farmer, 
*  bring  this  babble  to  an  end  and  hasten  on  the  play. 
If  this  be  death  by  inches,  I  had  rather  die  by  .  .  .' 
'  By  feet,'  put  in  Panaetios,  *  by  feet,  I  say,  if 
Agathon's  iambs  scan  half  as  ill  as  did  Philokles' 
yester-morn.' 

*  Nay,'  said  the  sophist,  taking  up  the  challenge. 
'  If  this  muse  went  Hmping,  yet,  Phoebos  Apollo, 
how  his  thought  was  winged  !  I  can,  an  it  please 
you,  set  forth  the  heads  of  that  argument  whereby 
Elektra  showed  that  she  must  needs  make  an  end  of 
her  mother.  Now  in  prime,  she  setteth  forth  that 
Klytemnestra  is  her  mother,  being  her  father's 
wife ;  good  !  Secondly,  that  her  mother  did 
commit  murder;  good  also!  Thirdly,  that  she 
being  her  mother's  daughter  could  do  no  less ;  hke 
parent,  like  child.  KilHng  was  in  the  family.  A 
most  excellent  argument.  But  God  help  us  the  while, 
here  's  old  Tithonos  looking  mere  mustard  !  '  At 
this  the  farmer's  patience  was  indeed  exhausted. 
'  Gall,  sir,  as  I  Hve,  to  me  every  word  of  it  was 


THE  GREAT  DIONYSIA 


149 


gall.  Oh  that  I  should  have  hearkened  to  such 
knavery,  and  with  my  youngsters  sitting  by.  Nice 
notions  they  've  learnt  at  the  play.  Last  night  if 
I  should  scold  them  for  this  or  that  it  was,  "  Who 
filched  the  tripe-ends  when  father  was  a  boy  ?  " 
"  Who  did  not  like  the  slipper  when  father  was  a 
boy  ?  It 's  in  the  family,"  till  I  could  fair  hang 
myself.     Oh,  that  sacrilegious  pagan  of  a  poet.' 

*  Nay,  thou  mistakest,  my  friend,'  rejoined  the 
sophist, '  in  letting  these  opinions  to  the  poet's  count. 
He  did  but  put  the  words  in  Elektra's  mouth.'  As 
a  downright  quarrel  seemed  likely  to  rise  upon  the 
point.,  Panaetios  intervened  with  a  suggestion. 

'  Now  friends,  let 's  lay  a  wager  on  it :  the  stakes 
to  be  that  parcel  of  comfits,  and,'  pointing  to  Kleony- 
mos  who  was  nodding  off  to  sleep,  *  let  pot-belly 
decide.  The  point  at  issue.  Sir  Oracle,  is  this  : 
Did  the  poet  declare  the  murder  just,  and  not 
Elektra  ?  Down  goes  his  head  for  "  aye."  Nay, 
up  it  comes  for  "  no."  ^  He  gives  the  award 
beyond  cavil  to  .  .  .' 

'  To  Kleonymos,'  said  the  fat  man  waking  up 
from  his  nap  and  taking  the  comfits  from  his  knee. 

'  Hold  ye  your  peace,'  shouted  the  Herald.  And 
the  play  began. 

There  was  here  no  pompous  raising  of  the  curtain, 
no  borrowed  glamour  of  mimic  forests  and  paste- 
board castles,  no  unearthly  stare  of  the  limeUght. 
The  bare  stage  stood  empty  under  the  plain  and 
whohisome  dayHght.  The  wall  behind  the  stage 
was  hung  simply  enough  with  the  painted  semblance 
of  a  palace  front ;  to  either  side  of  this  was  a  crude 

>  The  Greek  method  then,  as  now,  of  signifying  dissent  is  to  throw 
the  head  up  and  back,  of  assent  to  nod  down. 


fcl 


■  I 


ISO         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

likeness  upon  a  narrow  strip  of  canvas  of  some  land- 
scape or  other  :  so  much  of  make-believe  there  was, 

wa  '^hf'Z'  \  '^",.^^^^^'  ^'  it  were,  to  the  picture 
was  the  wide  famihar  view,  the  level  plain  stretch- 
ing down  to  the  shore,  the  Uttle  rocky  hillocks  dotted 
over  It,  and  beyond  them  the  sea.  As  the  mist 
hanging  round  the  Phaleron  Bay  went  up  like  smoke 
under  a  scorching  sun-(there  had  been  a  fall  of  snow 
not  many  days  before  and  there  was  moisture  in  the 

r2-  I T'  T""^  ^P  ^^  ^^^  ^ight,  a  line  of 
rambhng  hiUs ;    Aegina  rose  out  of  the  open  ^ulf 

and  far  away  on  the  sea-line  were  the  faint  blue  hiUs 
ot  Argohs.  How  shaU  we  see  horrors  and  not  despise 
them  under  this  friendly  sky  ?  ^ 

.    Suddenly  at  the  palace  door  stood  a  figure  clad 
m   sweeping   robes,    fantastic,    super-human,   vast, 
much  as  one  pictures  the  Genie  of  the  Arabian 
J>lights.     It  wore  a  face  mask  that  was  one  terrible 
grimace,  more  forbidding  (since  it  was  less  grotesque) 
than  our  own  Gothic  gargoyles.^    Above  the  fore- 
head  rose  a  towering  frontlet  of  black  hair.     Out  of 
those  bulging  eye-sockets  peered  human  eyes  :    if 
the    figure    speaks   it   should   surely   be   in    some 
strange  exalted  tongue,  the  high   grandiloquence 
of  Olympos.     Yet  when  the  slit  of  the  mouth  ^ave 
utterance  it  was  with  a  man's  voice.     It  came  W- 
drawn  recitative    of   chanted  speech.     And  as  he 
stood  mouthing  the  words,  he  was  all  the  while 
swaying  his  whole  taU  figure  to  the  rhythm  of  them. 
As  he  moved  forward  to  the  edge  of  the  stage  (he 
seemed  to  glide  rather  than  walk),  the  trailin|  robe 
of  rich   embroidery   swept   aside,    disclosing  great 

faintfd.'*"'  ^"'  Wcarance  of  a  tragic  actor  at  Sparta  several  women 


THE  GREAT  DIONYSIA 


151 


club-soled  *  buskins,'  half  boot,  half  stilt.  He  used 
his  padded  arms  and  gloved  hands  in  apt  and 
measured  gesture,  quickening  as  his  speech  quick- 
ened, and  pointing  the  periods  as  the  voice  rose  in 
a  shrill  torrent  of  passionate  rhetoric  and  then  slowly 
again,  as  it  sank  at  the  close  to  a  smooth  mono- 
tone. Then  ceasing  at  last,  he  stood  stock-still : 
and  standing  there  thus  magnificently  posed,  he 
became  part,  as  it  were,  of  the  painted  scene  behind 
him,  as  the  figure  of  some  god  appears  planted  on 
the  rich  field  of  a  coloured  tapestry. 

Those  that  sat  and  watched  had  held  their  breath 
during  some  thirty  lines  or  so,  and  now  emitted  it 
all  at  once  in  a  raucous  cheer.  They  knew  the  tale 
well  enough,  having  seen  it  figured  in  plays,  I  know 
not  how  often  :  therefore  they  considered  in  their 
minds  what  the  knot  of  the  tragedy  would  be  and 
how  it  all  might  end.  And  as  they  considered  this, 
they  were  aware  of  a  second  mythological  figure  that 
entered  and  stood  by  the  first :  then  the  two  held 
heroic  colloquy  in  iambic  verse,  until  the  sound  of 
dancing  feet  and  chanting  voices  broke  in  upon 
their  talk,  and  from  the  opening  to  the  right,  fifteen 
white-bearded  elders  entered  the  ring.  They  came 
stepping  and  singing  to  the  time  of  a  flute  ;  the  air 
which  they  sang  was  of  a  melancholy  and  altogether 
outlandish  sort,  and  full  of  those  strange  untempered 
harmonies  which,  when  the  world  was  young,  men 
held  for  music.  Of  these  something  still  lingers  in  the 
chants  which  we  set,  I  know  not  why,  to  the  account 
of  St.  Gregory,  but  their  full  secret  is  still  hidden 
even  from  the  wise.  They  ranged  themselves,  these 
fifteen  elders,  still  treading  a  measure  the  while, 
round  the  altar  of  Dionysos  that  stood  in  the  centre 


\s 


152         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

of  the  ring.     Then  their  leader  stepped  towards  the 
stage  and  addressed  the  two  mythological  person- 
ages.    There  was  a  briUiant  clash  of  wits  in  the 
argument  that  followed,  and  all  through  the  thrust 
and  parry  of  the  logic  the  critics  nodded  their  heads 
with  an  approving  and  judicial  air.     The  sophist 
delighted  in  the  weU-turned  epigrams,  rattling  his 
heels  against  the  stone  bench  and  clucking  at  times 
with  his  tongue  ;    this  behaviour  was  a  source  of 
great  discomfort  to  the  dramatist  aforementioned 
who  made  it  a  point  of  honour  to  hold  his  tongue 
when  others  chose  to  applaud  and  to  applaud  when 
they  were  silent.     Kleonymos  sat  meanwhile  munch- 
ing the  comfits  with  great  complacency. 

As  the  play  moved  on,  the  audience  poked  their 
heads  forward  and  warmed  to  their  work.     They 
would  pounce  upon  a  misplaced  emphasis,  and  even 
treat  the  actor  to  a  shower  of  nuts.     They  were 
quick  to  catch  some  veiled  aUusion  to  the  new 
alliance  with  Argos,  and  cheered  it  loudly.     One 
choice  song  speciaUy  took  their  fancy,  wherein  the 
beauties  of  Athens  were  catalogued,  and  the  old  ta^ 
dragged  in  about  her  '  crown  of  violet  hills.'    There 
were  cries  of  aJ^i?,  or  encore,  but  the  song  and  dance 
swept  on,  the  choir  threading  an  intricate  figure  in 
and  out  and  back  and  forth,  moving  round  the  altar 
like  the  morns-dancers  of  mediaeval  England. 

The  stage  was  now  empty  and  the  audience  were 
half  aware  of  catastrophe  to  come,  when  the  melody 
changed  suddenly  into  a  quavering  minor  key.  The 
choir,  parting  in  two  bands,  took  their  place  on  this 
side  and  that  of  the  palace  steps.  Their  swaying 
figures  seemed  alternately  to  lunge  and  cower  as  if 
m  prophetic  mimicry  of  some  murderous  struggle 


THE  GREAT  DIONYSIA 


153 


i 


At  the  last  burst  of  song  there  came  a  hush.  Then 
a  cry  rang  from  within  the  palace,  and  at  the  same 
moment  the  walls  were  seen  to  part  asunder,  and 
swinging  round  on  hidden  hinges  they  revealed  a 
horrible  tableau  :  the  murderer  was  standing  with 
his  victim  at  his  feet,  and  a  bloody  sword  in  his 
hand.     Then  the  walls  rolled  back  again. 

As  the  chorus  wailed  a  dirge,  a  woman  entered, 
mourning.  But  there  was  no  flinging  of  arms,  no 
frantic  grief,  no  agitated  sobbing.  Her  hands  were 
held  out  stiffly  and  appealingly  to  the  sky,  and  the 
plaintive  long-drawn  lament  of  ^cv  (j>ev  was  all  the 
cry  that  she  uttered.  Then  came  a  calm  and 
dignified  soliloquy,  and  so  the  tension  imperceptibly 
decreased,  and  the  interest  flagged — until  it  was 
presently  revived  in  a  strange  fashion.  A  platform 
or  balcony  above  the  stage  suddenly  rattled  down 
with  not  a  little  creaking  of  chains  and  winches,  and 
landed  upon  the  boards  the  helmeted  figure  of 
Pallas  Athena.  With  a  thrill  the  assembled  people 
listened  as  she  cut  the  tangle  of  the  plot,  and  watched 
her  depart  as  she  had  come,  turning  to  bestow  her 
final  blessing  on  the  chorus.  The  latter  attempted 
to  explain  their  supreme  conviction  of  the  unreality 
of  human  fortunes  and  their  unfeigned  surprise  that 
things  had  turned  out  Hke  this  after  all ;  but  their 
last  words  were  drowned  in  a  burst  of  cheering.^ 

As  they  filed  out  of  the  ring,  Taureas  went  for- 
ward ostentatiously  to  praise  and  to  criticise — but 
he  did  neither,  for  Alkibiades  stepped  out  before 
him  and  seized  one  of  the  choirmen  by  the  arm. 

*  Many  plays  end  with  this  identical  tag,  whether  from  pure  conven- 
tion  or  whether,  as  some  have  thought,  it  marked  the  finish  of  the 
play,  and  it  mattered  little  whether  its  fatuity  was  lost  to  the  audience. 


if 


154         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

As  he  did  so  he  demanded  in  a  loud  voice  his  ex- 
clusion from  the  choir.  '  I  inform  against  him,'  he 
cried,  '  before  the  people  of  Athens  as  an  impostor 
and  no  true  citizen.  It  "  needs  no  lamp  »  to  see  he 
IS  a  branded  slave.'  Purple  rage  and  green  fear 
chased  one  another  over  Taureas'  cheeks,  and  as 
Alkibiades  led  his  victim  off,  the  httle  man  took 
courage  and  seized  his  persecutor  by  the  cloak. 
Alkibiades  turned  on  the  funny  bald  little  old  man, 
and  said,  '  Off  to  the  crows  with  thee,'  and  smacked 
him  over  the  ear  with  the  flat  of  his  hand. 

There  was  a  hush  of  dismay  :  assault  had  been 
committed  in  the  sight  of  all  Athens  :  it  was  sheer 
sacrilege,  no  less,  at  the  God's  Festival  with  the 
Priest  of  Bacchos  sitting  by.  Then  Taureas  began 
loudly  to  call  his  friends  to  bear  him  witness  of  the 
affront  which  he  had  received,  and  this  set  all  tongues 
furiously  wagging.  Night  itself  would  have  fallen 
and  found  them  still  debating  this  new  scandal  but 
that  the  performance  was  only  half  through. 

The  '  scene  '  was  changed  :  a  simple  matter,  for 
each  of  those  two  httle  side-scenes  that  flanked  the 
palace  front  were  in  reahty  canvases  stretched  on  a 
sort  of  triangular  prism,  which  prism  had  two  other 
landscapes  on  its  two  other  faces^  One  of  these 
other  faces  was  now  switched  round  so  that  your 
knowing  Athenian  said  to  himself,  '  Ah,  now  we  are 
m  Delphi,  and  the  rock  can  be  none  other  than 
Farnassos,  for  it  has  a  tripod  under  it,'  or  '  that  wavy 
hne  with  a  dolphin  beneath  clearly  indicates  the 
sea,   and  with  that  he  was  perfectly  content.  ^    So 

1  Localisation  of  a  similar  sort  was  efFected  in  the  Shakesperian 
theatre  by  the  interior  <  scenes  '-or  still  more  crudely  by  the  notices  in 
wntmg  hung  up  to  give  the  cue  to  the  audience.  ^ 


THE  GREAT  DIONYSIA 


^5S 


the  two  succeeding  tragedies  were  gone  through 
in  a  dreary  fashion  with  a  crestfallen  and  diminished 
chorus.  The  audience  did  not  Usten  to  them 
nor  to  the  comedy  that  followed,  but  when  the 
music  was  loud  enough,  they  whispered  furtively  to 
their  neighbours,  debating  whether  Alkibiades'  action 
would  cost  him  the  prize. 

Every  one  had  therefore  framed  his  own  opinion 
long  before  the  time  for  judging  came.  The  ten 
judges  to  whom  it  fell  to  award  the  prize,  had  been 
chosen  by  lot  at  the  beginning  of  the  Festival. 
They  now  came  forward  into  the  ring,  each  bearing 
in  his  hand  a  tablet  upon  which  he  had  written  the 
names  of  the  poets  in  order  of  merit.  The  tablets 
were  placed  together  in  a  bowl ;  then  the  archon, 
dipping  his  hand  at  random,  drew  forth  five  out  of 
the  ten  ^  and  ascertained  the  result.  He  then  made 
it  known  to  the  crier,  who  bawled  it  to  the  crowd  ; 
and  behold  !  neither  Taureas  nor  yet  Alkibiades 
was  the  winner,  but  their  third  despised  rival.  This 
verdict  was  ill  received  by  the  partisans  of  Alkibiades, 
especially  by  the  young  aristocrat  faction  who  sat 
in  a  bunch  upon  the  left.  But  in  spite  of  their  cries 
of  derision  and  protest  the  choregos  and  the  poet 
were  both  summoned  to  the  stage  ;  there  the  sacred 
tripod  was  put  into  their  hands  and  carried  off  by 
them  in  triumph.  A  final  offering  blazed  upon  the 
Wine-god's  altar,  and  so  all  departed — the  populace 
to  revel  in  his  honour,  the  victor  and  his  friends  to 
celebrate  their  success  in  a  banquet — Alkibiades  to 
drink  both  late  and  deep — and  Taureas  to  consult 

*  This  is  only  another  instance  of  the  precautions  taken  by  the 
framer  of  Athenian  institutions  to  lessen  the  risks  of  favour  or 
corruption. 


} 


156         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

a  friend  upon  a  point  of  law.  Kleonymos  was  left 
in  undisputed  possession  of  the  theatre,  comfortably 
snoring  on  his  cushion.  The  stale  quips  about 
his  shield,  as  he  declared  afterwards  at  supper,  had 
sent  him  oil  to  sleep. 

It  was  a  merry  party  at  which  Kleonymos  sat 
down,  and  towards  the  end  of  the  evening  bois- 
terous.   All  Athens  was  in  a  mood  of  misrule.     The 
plays  of  the  morning  had  deeply  stirred  their  souls, 
opening  the  springs  of  honest  laughter  and  the  strong 
current  of  wholesome  passion.     Yet  there  was  mis- 
chief untamed  in  them  still.     It  was  the  hour  of 
that  inysterious  spirit  which,  in  the  very  early  days 
of  spring,  moves  in  the  sprouting  furrows  and  the 
growing  trees,  and  bidding  men  to  shake  off  sluggish 
winter,  breeds  in  them  a  riotous  impulse  and  a  lust 
tor  hfe,  and  sends  through  their  veins  a  gush  of  happy 
animal  spirits.     Now  for  this  life-giving  god  the 
Northern  nations,  httle  conscious  of  such  influences 
have  found  no  peculiar  name,  but  the  Greeks  caUed 
him  Dionysos.    And  it  was  he  who  this  night  in 
Athens  was  to  lead  the  rout.    As  the  city  grew 
dark  and  qmeter,  there  rose  great  bursts  of  song  and 
laughter,  fitfuUy  at  first  and  in  scattered  homes, 
but  by  and  by  the  revellers  burst  out  of  their  street 
doors  and  carried  the  flare  of  torches  through  the 
pubhc  ways,  mingling  in  a  riot  of  mischief  and  high 
ecstasy  under  the  stars.     So  they  danced  far  into  the 
night,  and  so  presently  they  sank  towards  dawn  into 
an  exhausted  slumber,  to  wake  again  in  full  morning 
with  heavy  heads,  but  saner  hearts,  exorcised  and 
cleansed,  as  it  were,  of  the  wild  spirit  of  spring 


THE  GREAT  DIONYSIA 


^57 


m 


Note  on  the  Greek  Art  of  Acting 

It  is  strangely  difficult  to  conjure  before  the  mind  any 
clear  vision  of  the  Greek  play  as  done  '  in  action '  before 
an  Athenian  audience.  It  is  a  task  which  calls  for  a  strong 
effort  of  the  imagination ;  and  for  that  task  small  help  is 
to  be  got  from  those  amateur  revivals  which  may  from 
time  to  time  be  witnessed  upon  our  academic  stage.  It  is 
not  merely  that  we  miss  in  these  the  old  face-mask  and  the 
tragic-boot :  something  far  more  vital  fails  us,  something 
which  is  the  very  core  and  centre  of  tragic  action — I  mean 
the  influence  of  a  live  emotion.  The  dead  hand  of  Classi- 
cism follows  us  from  the  lecture-hall  to  the  playhouse.  Now 
and  again  perhaps  some  individual  part  is  played  with  deep 
feeling  and  evident  sympathy,  but  these  are  as  single  and 
scattered  sparks  struggling  in  an  ill-lit  fire,  there  is  no 
sustained  or  steady  glow,  no  true  emotional  atmosphere. 

Like  all  peoples  of  Southern  Europe,  the  Greeks  were 
excitable,  high-strung  folk.  They  are  not  less  so  to-day. 
Listen  to  the  talk  of  half  a  dozen  peasants  in  a  railway 
train.  Set  out  in  cold  print  it  would  perhaps  appear  as 
stale  and  flat  as  the  sedate  gossip  of  six  Northerners,  but 
heard  and  witnessed,  it  is  immediately  alive  with  incident 
and  meaning.  Two  things  chiefly  make  it  so  :  first  the 
rapid  play  of  gesture,  the  darting  fingers  and  waving  arms  ; 
secondly  the  eager  modulations  of  the  tones  as  the  voices 
rise  and  fall  in  varied  and  rapid  cadences :  these  are  the  two 
elements  of  emotional  expression  which  stamp  these  people 
as  a  race  of  actors  born. 

The  first  thing  needful  to  an  orator,  said  Demosthenes, 
is  action  ;  the  second  too  is  action,  and  the  third  again 
action.  What  he  said  as  orator  other  Athenians  might 
well  have  said  as  players.  Gesture  was  indeed  to  them  a 
second  nature,  gesture  not  in  the  narrow  sense  alone,  not 
the  mere  employment  of  the  two  hands,  but  the  power  of 
giving  expression  to  every  thought,  word,  by  a  suited  pose, 
a  co-ordinated  movement  of  the  whole  body.  Gesture  of 
this  kind  is  a  language  of  itself,  and  independent  of  the 


158         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

tongue      The  conversation  of  the  railway  carriaa*  h^ 
comes  inte    eib  e  bv  virf..»  „f  u        j"*^/   carriage  be- 
interpreter.    ^  ^        "'  °^  "'  ^'"'  ""''*  "»   better 

frnirp/"^^*^^'  7  '1°"''''  ^"'"'■e  was  limited  and  con- 

a  vastly  important  role ;  when  the  features  are  covered  bv 
pr«rtt.n  lh"r  "  '^n^'  '''  '"'=  ^'"'  of  means  ofTnte'^ 

c::;t;r„?/fif r,;,;:''  -c-^  "-t^'^x  -^  s 

metrt h;t  coun't^in  :f^''"-«^-.  -'  ^he  passing  move- 

^oiyn^:^^^^::^::;^  ^-  rro^tftt 
rinTtr;  tif^-^  Tdit- --£5rL" 

rSenT:,THe':!its  ^"S"  ]°     ^T   '"'^^    '^^^ 

!lJ^!!!:rif!!!!>y^^  tL's^infoT^e&gsT^^' 

of  :htTa™TThVp°.il7'a'„f;'  ''='^  'r'l  *".'"  "'^<''  -  "-e  acting 
in  th.  A/i/.L;„«- l/H/^Z)'!/^^^^^^  ''t'V  King  and  Queef 

through  a  doztn  lintf  of  soSv  PO^  being  often  sustained 

most  Truly  Greek  ^Mom,  «ere  most  effective  and,  I  believe, 

vaL'^odd' to'  somelrmTevear"'"  ^"'""^  =""'  P^"  --•  '"e 

ing^'';rrtltT'idt'or^l'cMeft'"^„'''e;^ *,f  "IT' ^='"^<'  «  «?— 
is  the  epigram  upon  a  S th„7.       i""'"'  '""»'™ion  of  thijfact 

danced  L%„e  anTNi^X^e  l.^'e'lTo'cit'.  In^S-N^io^X^'re!- 


THE  GREAT  DIONYSIA 


IS9 


But  the  concerted  dance  must  to  be  effective  contain 
something  more  than  an  ingenious  adaptation  of  panto- 
mimic gesture.  New  *  motives'  were,  no  doubt,  readily 
and  constantly  supplied,  but  the  whole  bias  of  Greek  art 
makes  it  all  but  certain  that  the  origin  of  these  dances  was 
rooted  in  an  old  and  well-sustained  tradition  of  country- 
side festivities.  The  Greeks  learned  to  dance  in  the 
natural  course  as  girls  and  boys ;  they  practised  it  through 
life.  Only  by  such  an  established  and  universal  habit  can 
the  dance  become  a  spontaneous  and  expressive  art. 

With  us  the  tradition  has  lapsed,  and  only  in  recent 
years  has  enjoyed  an  artificial  resuscitation.  Neverthe- 
less, when  in  the  recent  production  of  a  Greek  comedy, 
a  morris  figure  was  adapted  to  the  purpose  of  the  play, 
there  seemed  to  be  struck  a  note  of  freshness  and  suit- 
ability seldom  felt  in  the  rigid  and  unmeaning  gambols  which 
usually  are  made  to  serve  our  turn.  The  Greek  dance 
was,  of  course,  incomparably  more  elegant,  and  as  a 
method  of  expression  incomparably  more  facile.  It  varied 
according  to  the  moment's  need,  from  the  slow  step  and 
sinuous  sway  and  swing  of  dignified  composure  to  the 
riotous  reeling  scamper  of  a  Bacchic  rout.^  Yet,  every- 
where it  was  instinct  with  art,  and  must  have  been  at 
least  as  satisfying  to  the  eye  as  were  the  poetry  and 
music  to  the  ear. 

And  with  the  mention  of  the  ear,  we  come  to  the 
second  element  of  expressed  emotion,  the  use  of  the  vocal 
instrument.  Here  again  we  know  the  Greeks  to  have 
possessed  a  fine  habit  of  elocution.  Not  else  could  their 
actors  have  been  for  a  moment  audible  to  those  vast 
assemblies  who  were,  as  we  are  told,  keenly  critical  over 
any  lapse  in  pronunciation  or  a  misplaced  accent.  Yet 
the  actors  did  more,  we  may  be  sure,  than  simply  make 
themselves  heard.  In  all  great  actors  the  voice  is  a  subtle 
and  powerful  instrument.  But  here  again,  I  imagine,  the 
Greeks  did  not  leave  so  much  as  we  do  to  the  interpreter 

*  Here  again  dancing  is  to-day  coming  by  its  own  again,  though,  as 
hinted  above,  nothing  can  take  the  place  of  a  national  tradition  when 
once  lost, 


t 


i6o         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

of  a  passage,  to  the  fancy  of  an  individual  actor.  I  should 
conceive  them  to  have  been  ruled  in  this  matter  also  by 
some  sort  of  tradition  and  convention.  In  the  first  place 
it  is  not  amiss  to  observe  that  among  all  peoples,  and 
especially  among  the  Latin  races,  there  are  certain  fixed 
cadences  appropriated  to  special  moods  and  sentiments. 
A  Frenchman,  for  example,  will  at  once  upon  embarking 
on  a  narration  fall  into  an  animated  sing-song  with  an 
even  stress  and  fall.  I  have  heard  the  same  cadence  come 
from  many  different  lips.  In  comparing  the  tones  used 
by  various  Italians  engaged  upon  a  quarrel,  one  may  dis- 
cover a  similar  identity  of  rhythm.  So,  in  all  likelihood, 
the  Greeks  employed  a  variety  of  cadences,  one  for  the 
heated  dialogue,  another  for  the  long-winded  even  rhetoric 
of  the  inevitable  '  messenger,' ^  a  third  for  passionate 
soliloquy. 

But  they  seem  to  have  gone  further  yet,  and  to  have 
suited  the  actual  metre  closely  to  the  dramatic  mood  of 
the  verse.  The  lyrical  passages  in  a  play  are  more  than 
mere  interludes  designed  to  break  the  regularity  of  the 
iambic  verse.  Take,  for  instance,  the  Alkestis,  What- 
ever may  have  been  the  inner  motives  of  Euripides  in 
writing  the  play,  it  is  hard  to  believe  that  he  does  not 
intend  Admetos'  feelings  to  undergo  a  radical  transforma- 
tion after  the  burial  of  his  wife.  Before  the  departure  of 
the  funeral  train  the  bereaved  husband  uses  none  but  the 
coldest  and  most  unconvincing  protestations  of  sorrow 
spoken,  be  it  observed,  in  the  conventional  iambic  and 
standing  in  vivid  contrast  to  the  lyrical  lamentations  of  his 
son.  Upon  his  return  from  the  grave-side  he  speaks  in 
quite  a  difl^erent  way.  Apart  from  the  moaning  and 
groaning  (the  I  e  and  <^€i)  (\)€v  of  the  written  texts),  it 
is  impossible  to  overlook  the  fact  that  he  breaks  out  into 
the  appropriate  language  of  passionate  remorse  and  utters 
some  threescore  lines  of  lyric  poetry. 

This  can  hardly  be  accident.     No  doubt  much  of  the 

*  The  monotonous  elocution  of  a  somewhat  *  churchy '  type  which 
prevails  at  modem  productions  makes  one  feel  the  want  of  some  variety. 


THE  GREAT  DIONYSIA 


i6i 


lyrical  part  of  a  play,  notably  the  choric  odes,  was  a  con- 
ventional necessity,  and  originated  in  the  early  history  of 
the  dramas.  Nevertheless,  in  Euripides  at  least,  there  could 
probably  be  traced  a  close  connection  between  the  variation 
of  the  metre  and  the  mood  or  temper  of  the  character.^ 
In  a  word,  the  Greeks  studied  far  more  closely  than  wc 
allow  for  the  resources  of  the  human  instrument,  upon 
which  in  other  ways  they  set  restrictions  so  harsh  and  so 
insistent  that  anything  which  we  should  call  an  individual 
rendering  of  a  part  seems  a  sheer  impossibility.  The  actor 
may  have  been  in  some  respects  the  playwright's  tool.* 
But  using  to  the  full  those  two  resources  of  voice  and 
gesture,  he  was  able  to  breathe  into  the  plays  that  emotional 
and  vital  quality  without  which  they  must  seem  to  us  as 
cold  and  as  dead  as  is  now  the  language  in  which  the  plays 
themselves  were  written. 


*  So  Shakespeare  varied  his  use  of  rhymed  verse,  blank  verse,  lyrics 
and  prose,  according  to  the  type  of  character  into  whose  mouth  the 
words  aire  put. 

*  Here  again  Mr.  Gordon  Craig's  theory  of  the  function  of  the  actor 
approaches  somewhat  to  the  Greek  view.  In  his  anxiety,  however,  to 
degrade  the  actor  to  the  position  of  a  marionette  and  to  abolish,  if  I 
understand  him  aright,  the  very  use  of  words,  he  seems  to  go*to  a 
length  which  Greek  modcrarion  and  humanist  instincts  could  never 
have  tolerated. 


THE  THEATRE 

The  masked  chorus  stand  round  the  altar  of  the  orchestra 
or  dancing-ring.  They  face  the  stage  ^  on  which  are  two 
actors  in  masks  and  buskins.  Behind  these  rises  the  stage- 
building,  with  its  two  projecting  wings  and  its  three  door- 
entrances.  The  painted  imitation  of  a  temple  is  hung  on 
its  front ;  and  on  either  side  of  this  are  the  reversible  side- 
scenes.  Between  the  stage-building  and  the  auditorium  is 
a  gap  by  which  the  chorus  enter  the  orchestra.  The  front 
row  of  seats  are  occupied  by  priests  and  other  functionaries. 


*  The  stage  is  represented  as  eight  or  nine  feet  high.  Nearly 
all  extant  evidence,  whether  literary  or  archaeological,  points  to 
an  even  higher  stage.  But  it  must  be  remembered  that  such 
evidence  refers  to  theatres  of  the  second,  third  or  fourth  centuries 
before  Christ.  For  the  fifth  century  there  are  no  direct  indica- 
tions at  all.  It  is  indeed  quite  likely  that  at  that  epoch  the 
stage-buildings  were  still  made  of  wood  and  not  stone  j  and 
hence  no  traces  of  them  have  survived.  Although  the  plays  of 
Aeschylos,  Sophokles  and  Euripides  seldom  require  an  actor  to 
descend  from  stage  to  dancing-ring,  yet  it  may  well  be  doubted 
whether  their  stage  was  in  reality  so  perilously  high. 


n 


XIII.  AN  EKKLESIA 

'  A  jealous  constituency  of  natural  hecklers.' 

A.  E.  ZiMMERN. 

Punctually  at  first  cock-crow,  when  the  sun  peeps 
over  the  bow-backed  rim  of  Mount  Hymettos,  and 
striking  across  the  plain  of  Attica  touches  with  fire 
the  ragged  grey  outHne  of  Aigaleos  beyond,  the  City 
wakes  in  the  misty  flats  which  lie  between  the  moun- 
tains, and  there  is  a  general  stir  along  its  streets. 
Bolts  rattle  in  the  doors—then  voices  come,  first  a 
shrill-voiced  summons  for  staff  and  '  Spartans,'  ^  then 
after  a  pause  a   second;   and  with  lively  impre- 
cations on  a  sleepy  slave,  citizen  Smithykion  of  the 
KoUytos  ward  is  stumping  out  of  his  front  door  and 
citizen  Melitides  out  of  his,  and  both  as  they  meet 
are  asking  in  the  same  breath  whether  the  signal  is 
yet  hoisted  on  the  Rock.     Now  the  Rock  is  the 
name  which  Athenians  give  to  the  Pnyx  or  Parha- 
ment  Hill ;   and,  by  that  same  token,  it  must  needs 
be  the  call  of  PoHtics  that  brings  Smithykion  and 
Mehtides  so  early  from  their  couch.    The  Athenians 
are  no  he-abeds,  and,  recking  little  the  advantages 
^f  stuffy  parliaments  and  midnight  sittings,  they 
hold  their  innocent  sessions  upon  an  open  hill  at 
dawn. 

It  is  plain  enough,  then,  that  the  two  honest 
burghers  are  bound  for  the  Pnyx,  there  to  hear  the 

\  T**!  ^^^*^«"»an»  ^cre  much  by  way  of  imitating  Spartan  dress— 
and  the  *  Spartan '  boot  was  at  this  time  very  popular! 


II 


i64         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

debate  and  cast  their  votes  before  the  sun  grows 
hot ;  but  what  they  will  debate  about  when  they 
are  there,  it  is  by  no  means  so  easy  of  conjecture. 
For,  as  all  the  world,  or  at  least  all  Athens  knows, 
this  is  none  of  the  statutory  occasions  set  apart  in 
each  month  for  the  holding  of  debates.  These 
days  are  four  in  number.  On  Sovereign  assembly 
day,  so-called,  they  criticise  the  magistrates  and 
vote  supplies ;  in  the  middle  of  the  month  religious 
matters  are  discussed,  while  questions  of  civic  dis- 
cipHne  are  despatched  at  the  end  of  it.  There  is  a 
fourth  meeting  at  which  the  reports  concerning 
foreign  policy  fall  to  be  considered.  But  since  this 
morning  is  none  of  these,  it  would  seem  that  there 
must  be  some  special  trouble  in  the  wind.  The 
truth  is  that  certain  ambassadors  arrived  from 
Sparta  yesterday  at  dawn,  and  their  business  here 
is  pressing.  The  Council  sat  in  conclave  till  late  in 
the  afternoon,  and  the  Public  Crier  was  sent  on  his 
rounds  announcing  an  extraordinary  summons  for  the 
morrow.  The  citizens  were  not  long  kept  in  the 
dark  concerning  the  affair,  for  as  the  evening  crowd 
passed  below  the  slopes  of  the  Areopagos  where  the 
rude  stone  effigies  of  the  Tribal  '  Patron-Saints ' 
stare  wide-eyed  into  the  sunset,  they  could  read 
placarded  across  the  pedestals  the  programme  for* 
next  day's  debate. 

So  all  are  up  betimes  this  morning  :  and  Melitides 
and  his  friend  are  not  alone  in  their  journey  to  the 
Pnyx  :  every  citizen,  that  is  worthy  of  the  name, 
is  already  moving  in  the  same  direction,  from  the 
greybeard  veteran  who  fought  at  Salamis,  to  the 
youngster  just  out  of  his  teens,  and  fresh  from  his 
year's   soldiering   in   the   frontier   forts.     In   they 


AN  EKKLESIA 


i6s 


pour  from  all  the  avenues  and  alleys  that  converge 
upon  the  market  square.  Here  the  stalls  are  already 
opened,  and  while  the  slower-paced  hobble  on, 
staff  in  hand,  to  climb  the  hill  and  find  seats  within 
earshot  of  the  platform,  the  younger  men  linger 
to  pass  the  time  of  day  with  their  companions, 
hanging  round  the  perfume  shops  or  the  pastry 
stalls,  and  chaffing  the  country  voters,  good  simple 
folk,  as  they  come  in  from  their  more  distant  homes, 
the  farms  of  Phlya  or  the  woodmen's  huts  at 
Acharnae  under  the  hills.  As  these  tall,  well-tanned 
figures  come  swinging  up  from  the  Dipylon  gate, 
marching  to  the  tune  of  some  old  war-chant,  our 
dainty,  sallow-skinned  fops  let  drop  a  sneering  ref- 
erence to  their  rustic  hob-nailed  boots,  and  sniff 
with  an  affectation  of  disgust  at  the  coarse,  odorif- 
erous goatskins  in  which  the  homely  fellows  have 
lain  rolled  up  for  the  night.  If  one  of  them  should 
by  chance  take  a  pull  from  the  flask  of  sour  wine  at 
his  belt,  it  is  thought  a  capital  joke  ;  and  a  laugh 
goes  up — but  the  taunts  do  not  greatly  ruffle  the 
quiet  dignity  of  the  rustics,  who  are  content  to  fling 
a  curse  back  at  their  persecutors  and  follow  up  after 
the  others  to  the  place  of  meeting.  For  a  while 
the  vnts  still  linger  on,  but  with  one  eye  now  upon 
the  end  of  the  market,  where  at  length  they  catch 
sight  of  the  nodding  peak  of  a  Scythian  cap.  That 
is  enough — the  constables  ^  are  clearing  the  square, 
and  they  too  must  be  moving  up  *  Parliament  Hill.'  V 
Two  would-be  shirkers  slink  off  towards  a  side  exit, 
only  to  find  the  barriers  up,  and  a  couple  of  ill- 

*  Since  the  task  of  policing  the  city  was  not  becoming  the  dignity  of 
a  free  Athenian,  the  function  was  assigned  to  Scythian  bowmen,  who 
were  distinguished  by  their  picturesque  native  costume. 


i66 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


favoured  Tartars,  carrying  a  reddened  rope  between 
them,  have  soon  headed  them  oif,  catching  them  as 
sailors  catch  herrings  in  a  draw-net.  A  curious  dia- 
logue ensues :  the  Peaked-cap  gurgles  some  official 
formula  to  Injured  Dignity  in  the  drollest  pigeon- 
Attic.  The  suggestion  of  a  fine  is  waved  imperi- 
ously aside — Injured  Dignity  agrees  to  enter  the 
assembly  and  departs,  though  not  without  a  ver- 
milion stripe  imprinted  upon  his  shirt  tail. 

So,  being  unable  to  afford  the  penalty  for  non- 
attendance,  the  two  pocket  their  pride  and  turn  into 
the  Pnyx.  This  is  an  open  theatre,  shaped  in  part 
by  nature  and  in  part  by  man  upon  the  slope  of  a 
rocky  knoll ;  along  the  crest  of  the  knoll  forming  an 
aj-c  to  the  huge  semicircle,  runs  a  flat  wall  cut  out  of 
the  solid  rock,  in  the  centre  of  which  a  great  slab 
or  table  of  hmestone  juts  out.  This  is  the  Bema, 
or  speaker's  platform,  and  round  it  the  audience 
group  themselves,  sitting  as  best  they  can  on  the 
rock  floor  and  forming  a  vast  crescent  on  the  hill- 
side ;  the  slope  of  the  hill  drops  away  gently  towards 
the  lower  level  of  the  market  square  :  and  the  back 
seats  were  raised  somewhat  by  an  artificial  embank- 
ment. To  this  position  in  the  rear  the  late-comers 
make  their  way  nervously  and  unnoticed,  till  some 
one  catches  sight  of  the  tell-tale  vermilion  on  their 
dress,  and  the  seated  multitude  stop  in  their  noisy 
chatter  for  a  moment  to  hoot  derisively :  this, 
however,  is  but  a  brief  interruption,  and  soon  enough 
the  crowd  falls  back  to  its  gossip.  '  I  can  tell  thee,' 
Smithykion  is  saying,  *  I  can  tell  thee  what  has 
hipped  these  Spartan  folk,  it  is  our  scheme  of 
partnership  with  Argos.  They  are  in  a  hot  fever 
about  it,  and  what  is  more,  they  have  got  old 


AN  EKKLESIA 


167 


NikJas  to  back  their  cause.  He  is  as  sweet  on  them 
as  cakes,  and  would  give  them  back  Pylos  for  the 
asking,  the  old  mammy-suck.' 

*  A  pox  on  Nikias,'  retorted  Melitides,  bringing 
down  his  staff  heavily  on  the  stones ;  '  Alkibiades  is 
our  man,  say  I,  yet  I  '11  tell  thee  a  strange  thing  too. 
For.,  if  I  did  not  see  our  friend  hob  and  nob  with  these 
same  Spartan  envoys  yesternight  and  they  as  thick 
as  thieves  with  him,  I  '11  never  trust  my  eyes  again. 
I  misdoubt  me  whether  they  have  not  got  round  our 
hero  somehow.  There  is  more  craft  in  them  than 
meets  the  eye;  trust  a  Spartan  as  you  would  a 
wolf.' 

'  Stuff  and  nonsense,'  cried  a  third ;  '  a  Spartan 
has  no  more  wit  in  his  pate  than  a  wood  block,  and 
nowadays  they  have  even  forgotten  how  to  fight. 
Only  the  last  Dionysia  I  met  an  archer-man,  a  tame 
islander  too,  that  had  been  to  Pylos  with  Kleon 
and  there  shot  down  ten  of  the  best  of  them.  Ah, 
if  only  Kleon  were  alive  we  'd  send  the  rascals  pack- 
ing !  '  So  the  talk  ran  on  till  it  was  suddenly  cut 
short  by  the  appearance  of  fifty  white-robed  coun- 
cillors coming  over  the  crest  of  the  hill.  This  body 
represented  the  Council  of  Five  Hundred,  being  the 
Committee  in  course  for  the  month,  and  they  came 
to  take  their  place  as  Presidents  of  the  meeting.  Seats 
were  reserved  for  them  on  the  hewn  steps  at  the  top 
of  the  long  rock  wall.  Here,  after  squabbling  a 
Uttle  for  precedence,  they  somehow  settled  down 
and  sat  looking  out  upon  the  vast  half-moon  of 
humanity  over  which,  for  the  next  few  hours,  they 
were  nominally  to  exercise  a  presidential  control. 

*  Move  forward '  {tt poire  €19  to  wpocrOev),  shouted 
the  Herald,  vigorously  waving  his  staff.     At  this 


Ill 


i68         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

summons  those  on  the  outskirts    of    the    crowd 
pressed  nearer  in ;  and  another  procession  appeared 
and  this   time    upon  the  right   of   the   assembly. 
First  came  a  priest  in  a  long  trailing  robe  :  behind 
him  came  an  acolyte    bearing    in   his    arms,    with 
the   most   solemn    demeanour   in   the  world,    the 
corpse  of  a  little  black  pig  !     These    two   passed 
outside    the    gathered    multitude    and    sprinkling 
fresh  blood  as  they  went  on  their  round.     By  this 
curious  ceremony  they  drew  a  hallowed  ring,  just 
as  a  fairy-tale  wizard  would  do,  about  the  whole 
Athenian     Parliament.     '  Hold     ye     your     peace,' 
bawled  the  Crier  again  when  the  circuit  was  finished. 
The  pubUc  sacrifices  had  been  made  and  the  chair- 
man of  the  Council  was  rising  to  announce  their 
successful   issue.     He    was,    as   it    so   happened,    a 
cobbler  of  little  education,  but  vastly  proud  in  the 
enjoyment  of  his  brief  authority  of  a  day — (for  each 
of  the  committee  in  rotation  took  the  chair  for  one 
day  in  the  month) — ^when  he  came  to  make  the 
announcement  he  mouthed  the  liturgical  formula 
as  though  he  were  Perikles  himself  uttering  the 
famous  funeral  speech.     '  Meet  sacrifice  and  proper 
(so  it  ran)  has  been  made  by  us,  the  Presidents  of 
your  Assembly,  to  the  Mother  of  the  Gods.     Her 
blessing   be   upon    you  !  '      The    Herald    followed 
with  a  tedious  form  of  '  bidding-prayer,'   calling 
upon  all  the  gods  of  the  calendar,  one  by  one,  and 
begging  them  to  assist  at  the  coming  deliberations. 
And  (he  added)  if  any  man  in  that  assembly  should 
dare  to  do  aught  that  the  laws  forbade,  terrible 
indeed  were  the  curses  that  would  inevitably  fall 
upon  him,  and  his  family,  and  all  that  was  his. 
These   ceremonies    over,    the    chairman   read   the 


AN  EKKLESIA 


169 


resolution  which  had  been  passed  by  the  Council 
on  the  previous  day.  *  The  Council  is  resolved,' 
it  ran,  *  that  the  Assembly  having  given  audience 
to  the  Embassy  and  having  heard  all  who  wish  to 
speak,  should  take  such  measures  as  seem  to  them 
best.' 

These  stale  formalities  had  roused  little  interest 
and  less  reverence  among  the  crowd,  who  were  busy 
enough  most  of  them  cracking  nuts  with  their  teeth 
or  munching  garlic :  when,  however,  Alkibiades 
entered  during  the  saying  of  the  prayer  they  all 
turned  to  gaze  at  him,  as  the  wedding  guests  turn 
at  the  entry  of  the  bride.  When  further  he  was 
seen  to  bring  at  his  heels  six  tall  figures  muffled  up 
to  the  chin  in  heavy  red  cloaks,  and  wearing  travel- 
lers' wide-awakes  on  their  sadly  unkempt  heads, 
there  was  some  nudging  of  elbows  and  pointing  of 
fingers.  Finally  when  Alkibiades  placed  them  by 
the  side  of  the  platform  and  whispered  for  a  moment 
in  their  ears,  the  crowd  broke  out  in  a  buzz  of 
impatient  comment.  Why  was  not  Nikias  doing 
them  the  honours  ?  How  came  Alkibiades  to  have 
supplanted  him  ?  Nobody  knew  :  for  Spartans  can 
at  least  keep  a  secret.  But  the  root  of  the  mys- 
tery was  this  :  Alkibiades  had  got  some  private 
talk  with  the  strangers  overnight.  When  they  left 
the  Council  Chamber,  he  and  every  one  present 
had  understood  that  they  had  come  to  Athens  with 
the  fullest  powers  to  conclude  an  agreement; 
Alkibiades  had  now  warned  them  that  in  the  As- 
sembly such  an  avowal  would  be  fatal  to  their 
interests.  If  they  would  but  go  back  upon  what 
they  had  told  the  Council,  he  promised  them  his 
support.     That  was  enough  for  them  and  they  fell 


I' 


170         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


Pi 


f  I* 

b 

fir 


the 


And 


into  the  trap.  And  now,  when  the  Crier  caUed 
out,  Who  wishes  to  speak  ? '  Alkibiades  himself 
was  the  first  to  mount  the  steps  and  take  his  stand 
upon  the  great  rock  slab.  A  wreath  which  the 
Crier  handed  to  him,  he  took  and  placed  on  his 
head.  Then  wrapping  his  cloak  weU  round  him, 
he  faced  the  audience.  They  broke  into  a  cheer 
at  the  sight  of  his  handsome  figure.  It  was  as  if 
some  marble  effigy  of  Hermes  had  suddenly  come  to 

A  ,?'-L  •  'i'^^'^  ^  "^^°^^  ^"'^  descended  from  his  pedestal. 
Alkibiades  indeed  held  himself  with  all  the  grace 
and  quiet  dignity  of  a  statue.     He  did  not  affect 
the  furious  dehvery  of  the  demagogues  who  ramped 
about  the  platform  like  '  a  dog  yapping  on  the  farm- 
yard wall.      He  spoke  at  first  with  composure.     His 
left  hand  remained  under  the  folds  of  his  cloak  • 
the  gestures  of  his  right  were  vivid,  impatient,  and 
often  somewhat  supercilious.     His  speech  was  more 
dehberate  than  rapid  :  and  often  he  would   pause 
for  some  moments  searching  the  right  word.     His 
style,  though  essentially  his  own,  yet  owed  much 
to  the  rhetoric  teachers  of  the  day.     And  if  his 
diction  was  somewhat  stilted  and  unnatural,  let  us 
remember  that  with  them,  as  with  our  own  Eliza- 
bethan   writers,    style    was    still    in    its    infancy- 
amused  with  the  trick  of  an  antithesis  or  the  jingle 
of  a  pun,  and  toying  with  all  manner  of  fanciful 
conceits      Moreover  (aptly  enough  for  our  meta- 
phor)  the   speaker  had   a   charming  lisp,    turning 
all  his  R's   to   L's.    What  he   said  was  much  a! 
lollows  : 

'  Critics  may  cavil,  men  of  Athens,  but  something 
1  must  say,  though  briefly,  of  myself,  forasmuch  as 
It  behoves  you  with  your  counciUors,  as  with  your 


AN  EKKLESIA 


171 


coins,  to  cherish  the  good  and  current  but  to  fling 
out  the  counterfeit. 

'  Consider,  I  pray  ye,  to  what  end  you  should  hear 
me.  Can  a  fine  wit,  think  you,  or  the  lustre  of  my 
kin  and  ancestry,  or  a  matchless  stud  of  racers 
(cries  of  ev  cS,  Xeyc,  Xeye),  can  these,  I  say,  avail  to 
save  from  damage  and  dishonour  our  old  "  Kranaan 
Town "  ?  Nay,  the  sole  authority  whereby  I 
speak  to-day  lies  in  my  true  devotion  to  the  public 
weal. 

'  What,  then,  shall  be  the  purpose  and  purport  of 
my  present  admonition  ?  This,  men  of  Athens  ! — 
whatever  you  ordain,  ordain  to-day !  If  these 
Spartans  come  with  full  powers  to  treat,  up  then 
with  your  hands  and  stay  not  for  the  morrow. 
Such  are  my  words  of  counsel.  If  they  mislike 
you — so  !  (The  gap  explained  itself  by  a  rapid 
gesture,  but  the  grammarians  have  invented  a  very 
long  word  to  help  people  to  understand  it),  but 
mark  me  well,  O  Athenian  men,  somewhither  these 
words  of  mine  will  issue.'  With  this  vague  threat, 
a  favourite  trick  of  speech  with  him,  he  paused,  and 
all  looked  to  the  Spartans  to  put  in  their  word. 
Their  spokesman,  puzzled  as  a  ploughboy  at  the 
quarter  sessions,  scratched  his  head,  recollected 
the  cue  he  had  from  Alkibiades,  and  ingenuously 
took  it.  '  By  the  Twa',  sirs,  we  munna  tak'  muckle 
rope.' 

'  How  now !  '  cried  Alkibiades,  simulating  a 
tremendous  rage,  '  was  it  not  but  yestere'en  that 
they  swore  before  the  Council  that  they  had  the 
fullest  power  to  treat  ?  The  President  himself 
will  bear  men  witness  that  I  speak  no  less  than  the 
truth.'    The  illiterate  cobbler  was  far  too  slow  to 


172         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

get  in  a  word,  and  Alkibiades  whirled  on.     '  And 
now,  an  it  please  you,  in  this  solemn  spot  under 
these  sacred  vows  before  our  People's  Parliament, 
this   false  and  wanton  shift-"  No  muckle  rope." 
k  11    ^^^^^^^s  o^th  phghts  no  troth  "  1  comes  from 
hollow  Lakedaemon  ?     And  now  consider  well,  my 
triends.     What  treatment   do  such   traitors   merit 
at  your  hands  ?     Some  there  are,  and  full  well  I 
know  them,  will  go  about  to  speak  of  feasts  in  the 
City  Hall,  of  a  fair  hearing  and  "  all  that  is  the  privi- 
lege of  guests."     Scorn  on  aU  such,  say  I.     Not  so 
did  your  fathers  deal  with  the  envoys  sent  by  the 
l^ersian  king,  yet  honest  men  for  all  that.     By  the 
House  of  the  Maiden  yonder,  if  you  would  be  true 
to  your  fathers'  memory,  you  will  not  fall  short  of 
the  lesson  they  passed  down,  but  you  wiU  go  beyond 
theni  rather,  to  make  of  these  perjured  knaves  a 
grand  and  notable  example.     Aye,  you  shall  make  of 
them  not  guests  in  sooth,  but  ghosts.     See  how 
they  pale  even  now  under  their  scarlet  cloaks.     No 
common   death  should   serve  their  turn,   nor  the 
Deadman's  Pit  for  a  grave,'  and  he  jerked  a  thumb 
over  his  shoulder  towards  the  chffs  behind  him  2 
And,  as  for  Sparta,'  he  concluded,  'she  is  treating 
with  us  for  alhance,  and  we— we  will  treat  her  to  a 
taste  of  war.' 

The  meeting  was  in  a  turmoil :  and  the  envoys 
being,  as  they  told  their  friends  at  home,  *  fair 
^n^u^''!'^,  by  these  weather-cock  tricks,  obeyed 
Albbiades    beckoning  finger  and  filed  meekly  out. 

»  A  line  which  Euripides  had  put  into  the  mouth  of  one  of  his  char 
actert  (Hippolytos)  and  which  had  aroused  much  comment  and  indiena 
tion  among  the  more  conservative  Athenians.  '"digna- 

whe«'JhJl^!l'"r  ^"*T  '^^'  °/^h<^Pnyx  Hill  are  cliffs  or  quarries 
Where  the  bodies  ofcnmmals  were  flung.  s""""^* 


AN  EKKLESIA 


173 


As  they  went,  their  rivals  the  Argive  embassy 
came  forward.  A  fresh  motion  was  framed  ;  Athens 
was  on  the  point  of  establishing  a  permanent  treaty 
with  Argos  and  all  her  aUies,  for  one  hundred 
years.  '  Raise  hands,'  cried  the  Herald,  and  up 
went  four  thousand  bare  arms,  when  all  of  a  sudden 
the  voice  of  Smithykion  was  heard.  A  drop  of 
rain  had  struck  him  on  the  head — it  was  an  omen — 
the  assembly  must  not  proceed.  Some  were  dis- 
posed to  hold  in  question  the  value  of  this  evidence, 
when  a  slap  of  thunder  and  a  violent  shock  of  earth- 
quake put  it  beyond  doubt.  The  meeting  broke  up 
in  alarm. 

*  See,'  said  Nikias,  clucking  his  lips  in  super- 
stitious terror,  as  a  thunderbolt  fell  with  a  crash 
near  by,  *  the  god  is  angered  against  the  son  of 
Kleinias.'  When  the  air  cleared,  the  bolt  was 
seen  to  have  shattered  a  neighbouring  shrine. 
'  Then,'  said  Alkibiades,  '  may  the  son  of  KJeinias 
congratulate  the  son  of  Kronos  on  the  accuracy  of 
his  aim.' 

A  month  or  two  later  the  Argives  were  again 
present  in  the  Ekklesia.  Alkibiades  was  still  in  the 
ascendant.  True,  Nikias  had  made  violent  efforts 
to  patch  it  up  with  Sparta.  He  had  even  made 
the  journey  to  that  town  in  person,  but  all  to  no 
purpose.  The  treaty  with  Argos  was  voted  :  and  its 
terms  were  carved  in  stone  and  set  on  the  Akropolis 
at  Athens,  being  to  the  following  effect  : 

'  That  the  Athenians  and  the  Argives,  Man- 
tineans  and  Eleans  on  their  own  behalf  and  that  of 
the  allies  over  whom  they  severally  rule,  make  a 
peace  to  continue  for  one  hundred  years  by  sea 
and  land,  without  fraud  or  hurt.' 


\i 


174 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


To  this  and  the  numerous  other  provisions  of  the 
treaty,  the  various  allies  swore  each  in  their  several 
towns,  taking  the  oath  over  the  bodies  of  full- 
grown  victims,  and  following  the  formula  held  to 
be  most  binding  among  their  own  people. 

Smithykion,  however,  could  not  put  from  his  head 
the  memory  of  that  drop  of  rain  :  and  when  some 
months  later  the  new  allies  suffered  a  considerable 
reverse,  he  posed  as  something  of  a  prophet — nor 
did  he  ever  again  record  a  vote  for  the  policy  of 
Alkibiades. 


AN  EKKLESIA 

A  speaker,  stafF  in  hand,  garland  on  head,  is  addressing 
the  assembly  from  the  Bema  or  platform.  His  violent 
gestures  are  taken  from  a  vase-painting.  The  Spartan 
envoys  in  thick  cloaks  and  travelling  hats  stand  on  his  right. 
Behind  him  sit  the  Prytanes ;  virhile  the  Crier  stands  near 
by.  In  the  foreground  is  a  Scythian  archer  or  policeman 
whh  his  peaked  cap  and  trousers.  The  Parthenon,  Propylaea, 
Temple  of  Victory,  and  the*  colossal  statue  of  Athena* 
appear  on  the  left,  Mt.  Hymettos  rising  behind  them. 


< 


u 


XIV.  A  WEDDING  FESTIVAL 


*  Qui  rapis  teneram  ad  virum 
Virginem,  O  Hymenaee  Hymen  ! ' 

Catullus. 


Among  the  Greeks  marriage  was  at  all  times  and 
without  any  disguise  a  mercenary  matter.  The 
bride  was  bought  and  sold  like  a  parcel  of  goods 
and  her  leave  never  asked.  There  was  no  room  for 
sentimental  courtship  ;  and  in  truth  a  betrothal 
was  nothing  better  than  a  bargain.  In  the  good 
old  days  when  the  gods  still  walked  on  earth  and 
womenkind  were  rare,  it  was  the  bridegroom  who 
paid  and  the  father  who  called  the  tune.  It  is  so 
at  least  that  Homer  tells  of  it.  But  when  times 
changed  and  the  sex  was  at  a  discount,  the  bargain 
was  contracted  in  a  different  fashion.  A  father 
could  no  longer  look  forward  to  earning  a  yoke  of 
oxen  or  a  shekel  of  silver  on  the  day  he  parted  with 
his  daughter.  On  the  contrary,  it  might  cost  him 
dear  even  to  get  the  girl  a  husband.  Nobody  would 
take  her  without  dowry,  however  great  were  her 
charms ;  and  dowry  therefore  she  must  have,  or 
remain  in  her  father's  house  a  spinster,  a  burden 
and  a  reproach. 

Here  lay  the  manifest  advantage  of  the  young 
bachelor  of  high  birth  and  extravagant  habits 
(such  as  was  Alkibiades).  Naturally  he  would 
consult  his  purse  rather  than  his  passions,  and  if 

176 


A  WEDDING  FESTIVAL  177 

financial  troubles  could  be  corrected  by  an  advan- 
tageous marriage,  the  son  of  Kleinias  was  not  the 
man    to    stand    on    ceremony.     Now    Hipponikos 
had  a  daughter,  Hipparete  by  name,  young  and  by 
no  means  ill-favoured.     But  what  was  more,  Hip- 
ponikos had  a  weU-fiUed  purse.      The  suitor,  it  is 
true,  had  small  claim  upon  the  family,  for  not  long 
smce  he  had  insulted  the  old  man  to  his  face.     But 
the  father  having  died  and  Hipparete  having  passed 
under  the  care  and  tutelage  of  her  brother  Kallias 
(for  every  woman  was  legaUy  a  minor,  and  always 
remained  the  ward  of  some  male  guardian),  Alki- 
biades perceived  his  chance.     He  was  a  frequent 
visitor  at  the  house  of  Kallias,  who  kept  open  doors 
to  sophists  and  their  friends ;  and  he  was  thus  able, 
not  indeed  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  the  lady 
(for  young  girls  never  mixed  in  male  society)  but  at 
least    to    gauge    the    magnitude    of   her    brother's 
fortune.     In  short,  he  broached  the  matter,  and 
drove  a  bargain.     A  formal  contract  was  concluded 
before  witnesses,  by  which  Hipparete  was  his  with 
twenty  talents  dowry.^ 

It  was  a  strange  and  doubtful  prospect  that  lay 
before  the  girl,  betrothed  as  she  was,  through  no 
fault  of  her  own,  to  a  man  whose  reputation  she 
perhaps  had  heard,  but  whom  she  could  scarcely 
have  known  by  sight,  so  strict  was  the  seclusion  in 
which  her  life  had  hitherto  been  spent.  Year  by 
year,  indeed,  she  had  been  led  forth  to  participate 
in  some  pubhc  festival.  She  had  once  on  a  great 
day  borne  a  basket  in  the  Great  Procession.  Once 
too  she  had  gone  to  Artemis'  precinct  on  the  citadel 
and  there  danced  the  weird  bear-dance  along  with 

1  Equivalent  to  nearly  £sooOy  or  ^20,000  in  purchasing  power. 

M 


178         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

other  children  of  her  age.^  But  these  were  rare 
glimpses  of  the  external  world,  and  she  was  still  at 
sixteen  as  ignorant  of  life  as  a  child  of  ten.  For 
her,  as  was  natural,  man  was  a  mystery  of  mysteries  ; 
and  as  for  marriage,  it  was  at  best  a  blindfold  sort  of 

adventure. 

The  day  appointed  for  the  ceremony  fell  about 
mid-winter;  this  season  for  one  cause  or  another 
was  held  to  be  the  proper  time  for  weddings,  and 
the  Greeks  had  even  christened  it  the  marriage 
month.  So  when  the  moon  was  coming  to  its  full, 
there  were  great  preparations  afoot  in  the  bride's 
home.  On  the  day  which  was  the  last  she  would 
spend  among  her  family,  she  bade  a  solemn  farewell 
to  the  old  associations  and  the  innocent  pastimes 
of  her  girlhood.  According  to  the  quaint  fashions 
of  the  times,  her  childish  playthings,  her  ball,  her 
doll,  her  tambourine,  were  o£Fered  with  full  cere- 
mony to  the  goddess  Artemis ;  for  Artemis  was  the 
good  angel  of  maidens,  as  Apollo  was  of  boys.  Her 
brother,  standing  at  the  altar  side,  cut  from  her 
forehead  a  lock  of  hair  and  threw  it  on  the  flames ; 
and  by  this  act  her  life  was  consecrated  as  it  were 
to  the  service  of  the  goddess ;  and  by  that  token 
she  accepted  the  unknown  duties  and  dangers  of 
marriage  and  motherhood. 

And  now  as  the  day  was  closing,  a  small  and  rather 
sad  procession  entered  the  main  court.  A  dame 
with  torch  in  either  hand  was  preceded  by  a  young 
boy  playing  upon  the  pipes,  while  behind  her  came 
a   maiden  bearing  upon  her  head  a  long-necked 

*  *  And  then  I  was  a  bear, 
And  a  saffron  robe  did  wear 
In  the  festival  of  Artemis  of  Brauron.' 

Aristophanes. 


A  WEDDING  FESTIVAL 


179 


pitcher.  This  vessel  had  been  filled  at  the  fountain 
which  rises  by  the  banks  of  the  Ihssos  and  is  called 
the  Beautiful  Spring.  By  a  long-established  custom 
every  bride  was  washed  in  water  drawn  from  that 
spring  upon  the  eve  of  her  wedding  day. 

Next  morning  the  house  was  full  of  a  busy  con- 
fusion. The  friends  and  playmates  of  the  bride 
had  gathered  to  bid  her  farewell  and  join  in  the 
celebrations  and  the  singing  of  the  chorus.  The 
slaves  were  hanging  every  door  and  pillar  with 
branches  and  festoons  till  the  courtyard  was  as  gay 
and  garlanded  as  a  ballroom  at  Christmastide,  and 
the  bride  meanwhile  was  in  the  back  part  of  the 
house  which  is  the  women's  quarter,  waiting  to 
make  her  toilette.  All  was  ready  to  hand,  the  long 
tunic  embroidered  at  the  hem  with  severe  simple 
patterns,  the  mantle  woven  many  years  ago  under 
her  mother's  eye,  the  wedding  shoes  of  saffron  hue, 
the  myrtle  wreath,  and  the  veil,  the  drawing  of 
which  would  presently  discover  her  face  for  the  first 
time  to  the  vulgar  gaze  of  man.  But  the  bride 
herself  sat  waiting,  toying  impatiently  with  a  pet 
sparrow.  To  her,  thus  seated,  came  her  friends 
bringing  small  presents  in  their  hands.  '  Our  Lady 
give  thee  joy,'  said  one,  putting  into  her  lap  a  small 
bronze  mirror,  '  see  to  it  that  thou  use  it  well— or 
count  me  no  judge  of  husbands.'  'Well  said,' 
cried  a  second,  '  but  Alkibiades,  I  am  told,  has  no 
eyes  for  a  pallid  woman,'  and  she  produced  from 
beneath  her  cloak  a  handsome  box  of  rouge.  *  I 
am  not  one  to  bear  tales,'  put  in  a  third,  '  but  they 
say  in  the  city,  my  dear,  that  he  is  a  sad  scoundrel 
and  will  make  thee  a  sorry  husband,  mayhap  this 
charm   may   help   thee.'    The   sudden   chorus   of 


II 


i8o         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

protest  which  this  speech  provoked  was  as  suddenly 
cut  short  by  a  fresh  arrival.  For  there  entered  a 
dame,  now  well  on  in  years,  but  straight  and  comely 
as  Penelope  ;  she  was  a  kinswoman  of  the  family, 
and  she  came  to  act  as  Bride's-lady  to  Hipparete. 
Her  task  it  was  to  prepare  the  girl  for  the  wedding, 
and  bear  her  company  throughout  the  day.  When 
therefore  the  toilette  was  completed,  she  led  out 
her  charge  into  the  central  court,  where,  upon  the 
small  stone  altar,  sacrifice  was  being  made.  All 
the  deities  that  preside  over  nuptials  were  in  turn 
invoked,  Zeus  and  Hera,  Artemis  and  Aphrodite, 
and  Peitho  the  goddess  of  Persuasion.  A  consider- 
able company  was  gathered  round  the  altar  ;  and, 
when  the  prayers  were  ended  and  the  court  was 
still  fragrant  with  the  rich  odours  of  burning  in- 
cense, they  all  repaired,  both  the  friends  of  bride- 
groom and  bride  alike,  to  an  adjoining  chamber  in 
which  a  repast  was  to  be  served.  The  ladies  took 
their  place  upon  separate  couches  that  stood  on  the 
right  hand  of  the  doorway  ;  but  the  men  lay  down 
opposite.  Seeing  that  all  were  set  down,  and 
greeted  by  a  clamour  of  merry  voices,  the  Bride's- 
lady  now  led  Hipparete  into  their  midst.  The 
veil  that  hid  her  face  was  presently  drawn  aside, 
and  at  that  Alkibiades  took  the  blushing  girl  by 
the  hand  and  placed  her  beside  him  on  the  couch, 
and  the  feast  began.  Whatever  were  the  feelings 
of  the  bashful  bride,  there  was  no  false  decorum 
in  the  conduct  of  the  feast.  The  guests  ate  well 
of  the  comfits  and  sesame  cakes  (for  the  viands  were 
of  a  light  and  unsubstantial  sort) ;  and  they  drank, 
some  of  them  more  than  prudently,  of  the  wine, 
well  watered  as  it  was,  so  that  very  soon  the  merri- 


A  WEDDING  FESTIVAL 


i8i 


ment  was  at  its  height ;  all  were  laughing  and  talking, 
and  in  particular  were  ridiculing  Sokrates  because 
in  his  clumsy  way  he  had  spilled  the  liquor  down  his 
tunic  front,  when  a  strange  figure  was  seen  at  the 
door.  It  was  Panaetios,  the  ancient  boon-com- 
panion of  Alkibiades,  but  no  friend  at  all  of  Kallias 
the  host.  *  God  rest  you,'  the  fellow  cried  to  the 
company,  and,  as  all  heads  turned  his  way,  added 
knowingly,  *  Now  entered  Menelaos  an  uninvited 
guest.'  Some  one  applauded  the  aptness  of  this 
tag  from  Homer  ;  but  amid  a  roar  of  laughter 
Alkibiades  capped  his  sally  with  another :  '  Right 
sore  was  Agamemnon,  the  son  of  Atreus  vex'd.' 
To  this  Panaetios  attempted  no  reply,  but  scanned 
the  benches,  looking  for  a  vacant  seat.  Kallias, 
since  hospitality  forbade  him  to  resent  the  intrusion, 
motioned  a  slave  to  bring  forward  a  stool.  This 
was  not  what  Panaetios  desired,  and  he  took  up  his 
stand  by  the  doorway,  vowing  that  he  would  not  be 
seated  like  a  slave,  but  should,  if  need  be,  walk  about 
till  he  grew  tired  and  then,  he  declared,  he  should 
spread  his  cloak  and  lie  on  the  floor,  head  on  arm,  like 
Herakles  in  the  picture.  The  company  being  in 
high  spirits  were  not  slow  to  make  mock  at  his  dis- 
comfiture, and  their  ridicule  was  so  galling  that  he 
was  within  an  ace  of  bursting  into  an  ugly  show  of 
temper,  but  that  a  diversion  occurred  to  quiet  him. 
A  young  boy  who  had  entered  bearing  a  basket 
of  spiced  bread,  now  extended  it  in  the  angry  man's 
direction,  saying  as  he  did  so : 

*  From  evil  I  fled 
And  found  better  instead.' 

This  curious  ceremony  the  boy  repeated,  as  he  went 
the  round  and  offered  his  basket  to  each  guest  in 


I 


i82         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

turn.  And  by  this  their  attention  was  drawn  from 
the  unwelcome  visitor  ;  and  the  feast  again  resumed 
its  even  course.  But  the  time  soon  came  to  break 
up  the  gathering  and  to  convey  the  bride  to  her  new 
home. 

Outside  the  procession  formed  up  :  the  chamber- 
lain acting  as  the  Marshal,  a  herald's  baton  in  his 
hand.  A  chariot  harnessed  to  four  mules  was  wait- 
ing at  the  outer  door,  and  when  the  pair  had  taken 
their  places  in  it,  the  groomsman  stepped  in  beside 
them  and  they  got  under  way.  The  rest  now  set  a 
light  to  their  pine-flares,  and  the  merry  troop  broke 
into  the  moonht  street,  with  a  shout  and  much 
scattering  of  sparks.  Flute  and  harp  struck  up  the 
tune,  and  it  brought  the  neighbours  hurrying  to 
their  doorways  when  the  first  notes  of  the  wedding 
chorus  surprised  the  echoes  of  the  winter  night. 
Down  the  street  they  watched  the  white-robed 
troop  go  by,  torches  tossing  aloft  and  feet  beating 
to  the  measure,  the  elders  a  Httle  slow  and  solemn, 
the  young  men  excitable  and  boisterous,  breaking 
in  now  and  then  upon  the  even  rhythm  with  a  wild 
and  random  shout,  the  maidens  still  modest  and  bash- 
ful, littering  their  path  with  the  crimson  petals  of 
early  spring  anemones.  The  pace  was  sluggish,  for 
the  car  strained  and  jolted  in  a  laborious  and  uncer- 
tain motion  down  the  unlevel  roadway.  At  the  sight 
of  friend  or  stranger,  Alkibiades  turned  in  his  seat 
and  waved  a  hand.  But  whenever  the  street  was 
dark  and  narrow,  the  bride  wept  a  Httle,  silently. 

When  at  length  the  house  was  reached,  the  pair 
dismounted,  and  passing  between  the  lane  which 
the  torchmen  formed,  came  to  the  door.  The 
groom's  mother  with  a  burning  pine-stick  in  either 


A  WEDDING  FESTIVAL 


183 


hand,  stood  under  the  porch  to  greet  them ;  and 
presently  at  her  bidding  the  slaves  brought  trays 
laden  with  cakes,  dried  fruits  and  sweetmeats. 
Hipparete  herself  partook  of  a  quince  ;  which  fruit 
possesses,  so  they  say,  much  magical  virtue  for  the 
nev/ly-wedded  wife.  Then  the  doors  of  the  bridal 
chamber  were  unfolded,  and  the  couple  passed 
within.  The  men  withdrew,  but  the  maidens 
hngered  on  the  threshold  to  sing  a  parting  serenade  : 

•  Bless  thee,  bless  thee,  lovely  bride ! 
Bless  thee,  happy  lover ! 
Lato  send  ye  childer  guid, 

Lato  the  All-mother. 
Kypris  grant  that  nought  divide 
Love  'twixt  each  and  other. 

Hymen,  Hymen,  virish  us  well 
In  our  wedding  festival ! 

Never-ending  happiness 
Father  Zeus  assure  ye, 
Living  in  like  nobleness, 

As  lived  the  sires  before  ye — 
Heart  to  heart  and  kiss  for  kiss, 
Slumber  now  come  o'er  ye. 

Hymen,  Hymen,  wish  us  well 
In  our  wedding  festival  1 

Yet  be  mindful  to  arise 

At  the  break  of  morning. 
We  '11  renew  our  minstrelsies 
When  the  day  is  dawning. 
And  th*  bright-throated  singer  cries 
First  his  note  of  warning. 

Hymen,  Hymen,  wish  us  well 
In  our  wedding  festival  I  ^ 

They  were  as  good  as  their  word  :  and  daybreak 
saw  them  again  before  the  house,  headed  this  time 

»  Old-fashioned  dialect  forms  lingered  in  these  traditional  airs.     The 
song  is  an  adaptation  from  Theokritos. 


II 


« 


1 84 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


by  a  boy  in  white,  and  bearing  in  their  hands  sundry 
presents  for  the  bride,  a  vase  perhaps,  or  a  shawl,  a 
pair  of  saffron  shoes  or  an  alabaster  casket. 

The  mother-in-law  was  present  with  some  more 
substantial  gift  :  and  Kallias  too  was  there  to  pay 
the  dowry.  Thus  the  matter  ended  as  it  had  begun, 
upon  the  sober  element  of  business. 

So  Hipparete  has  changed  masters.  Under  the 
new  tyrant  she  will  know  few  privileges,  many 
duties.  One  stands  paramount.  If  she  but  bring 
him  children,  she  will  at  least  have  deserved  well 
both  of  husband  and  of  state. 


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5 


INTERIOR  OF  A  GREEK  HOUSE 

The  lady  of  the  house  sits  under  the  colonnade  or  peri- 
sfyky  mirror  in  hand.  A  slave-girl  near  by  is  spinning 
wool.  Houses  built  with  such  solid  stone  columns  (note  the 
painting  on  them)  were  a  rarity  in  fifth-century  Athens, 
but  in  the  succeeding  century  Demosthenes  complains  of 
the  lavish  expenditure  on  private  houses. 


I 


XV.  A  HOME  IN  ATHENS 

*  The  Greeks  gathered  round  no  religious  myth  in  which  the  family 
becomes  divine.' — Mr.  Herbert  Trench. 

*  To  see  the  Athenian  in  his  true  colours,'  wrote  a 
Frenchman  of  this  century/ perambulate  the  streets,' 
and  two  thousand  years  ago  it  was  as  true  as  it  is 
to-day.  At  any  rate  the  last  place  to  find  him 
was  at  home.  He  might  perhaps  be  caught  there 
by  an  early-morning  caller,  but  unless  a  man  was 
under  a  cloud  or  in  some  domestic  trouble,  or,  like 
Timon,  was  a  downright  crank,  out  of  patience  with 
mankind,^  he  would  show  a  marked  preference  for 
male  society  and  the  open  air.  Both  of  these  he 
could  find  in  abundance  at  that  most  sociable  of  all 
clubs,  the  market-place.  Here  he  spent  the  greater 
part  of  the  morning  in  friendly  gossip  :  his  after- 
noon was  given  to  athletics,  and  only  at  suitable 
intervals,  when  requiring  food  or  sleep,  would  he 
repair  to  his  house  :  for  the  rest  he  left  it  to  the 
ladies. 

Such  being  the  tastes  and  habits  of  a  man  of 
means  and  leisure,  we  shall  not  look  in  the  house  of 
Alkibiades  for  that  comfortable  homeliness  which 

*  This,  of  course,  applies  only  to  men  of  the  leisured  class,  not  to 
the  working  man.  The  Greeks  could  not  tolerate  men  of  a  stay-at- 
home  sort ;  as  may  be  read  in  the  MecL;a  of  Euripides,  they  set  such  a 
disposition  down  to  an  arrogant  assumption  of  superiority.  There 
was  nothing  they  disliked  more  in  the  Orientals  than  their  difficulty 
of  access. 


A  HOME  IN  ATHENS 


187 


Northern  nations  prize ;  nor,  when  all  allowances 
for  climate  have  been  made,  will  it  offer  any  but 
the  barest  conveniences  of  Ufe. 

In  style,  no  domestic  architecture  of  our  own 
can  produce  even  in  broad  Hnes  its  counterpart. 
But  in  ground-plan  and  general  arrangement  it 
resembled  nothing  so  much  as  an  old-fashioned 
and  secluded  Collegiate  House.  Like  this,  though 
on  a  far  smaller  scale,  the  Greek  mansion  lay  con- 
cealed from  the  public  street  by  a  blank  wall  and 
a  bolted  door  ;  within,  it  too  contained  a  sunny 
court,  round  which  the  living  rooms  were  grouped, 
and  upon  which  open  space  they  had  their  outlook. 

Coming  upon  the  house  from  the  street  side,  you 
might  observe,  except  for  the  front  door  and  the 
porter's  lattice,  no  single  opening  or  window  of  any 
sort  :  there  is,  moreover,  no  upper  story  to  the 
house.  Over  the  door,  where  our  ancestors  would 
have  placed  a  ponderous  porch,  the  Greeks  set  a 
slender  portico  resting  upon  Ionic  columns  (for 
the  same  styles  served  in  all  buildings  whether 
sacred  or  profane),  and  whereas  the  Christian 
founder,  pious  man,  sets  above  the  college  door  a 
Madonna  in  stone  to  bless  incomers  from  her 
pedestal,  the  Greek  householder  found  his  super- 
stitions satisfied  by  a  rude  stone  pillar,  set  where  we 
should  set  the  scraper.  If  it  was  square  and  had  a 
head,  he  called  it  Hermes ;  if  conical,  Apollo 
Why  so,  he  no  more  thought  to  ask  than  a  Syrian 
bowing  before  his  Asherah-pole.  His  father  used 
the  names  long  before  his  day  and  that  was  enough 
for  him,  and  from  time  to  time,  by  force  of  custom, 
he  hung  a  wreath  upon  the  stone.  Just  inside  the 
door  is  the  porter's  cell  :  the  careless  slave  is  usually 


1 88        THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

fast  asleep,  but  when  roused  by  the  rattling  of 
the  lion's-head  knocker,  he  jumps  up  and  puts  his 
head  through  the  spy-hole,  ready,  if  need  be,  to 
loose  a  dog  on  unwelcome  visitors.  Access  to  the 
house  is  thus  jealously  guarded,  and  so  impossible 
is  it  to  force  an  entrance,  that  the  housebreaker  of 
those  days  preferred  the  rough-and-ready  method 
— much  simpler  when  a  house  is  built  of  sun-dried 
brick — of  digging  through  the  walls. ^ 

No  sooner  does  the  door  (which  opens  outwards) 
creak  on  its  hinges — the  idle  slave  who  should 
water  them  has  neglected  his  duties — than  there  is 
a  sudden  patter  of  bare  feet  on  the  stones,  and  we 
enter  the  tiny  court  in  time  to  see  a  flutter  of 
drapery  disappear  through  a  door  upon  the  further 
side.     The  court  is  empty. 

Its  floor  is  beaten  mud,  baked  by  the  sun  and 
seamed  with  a  network  of  gaping  heat  cracks ; 
overhead  is  the  open  sky.  Bees  are  buzzing  round 
the  incense  that  smoulders  upon  an  altar  which,  dedi- 
cated to  Courtyard  Zeus,  stands  out  in  the  central 
space.  Round  all  four  sides  of  the  court  runs  a  cloister 
or  verandah,  a  flat  roof  set  upon  stout  pillars.  Off 
this  corridor  opens  the  rooms,  small  windowless 
chambers,  as  dark  as  cupboards.  In  fact,  what  with 
the  bare  rafters,  the  rough  ungarnished  plaster  of 
the  walls,  the  earthen  floor  without  carpets  and  the 
door-openings  without  doors  (a  curtain  serves),  the 
house  wears  the  air  of  a  building  not  yet  well  out 
of  the  contractor's  hands.  Of  all  the  rooms  in  it, 
and  they  are  many,  one  alone  deserves  that  name. 
It  is  the  dining-hall,  and,  though  it  is  the  master's 
pride  and  holds  twelve  couches,  its  dimensions  are 

1  *  Wall-digger '  was  the  Greek  name  for  a  burglar. 


A  HOME  IN  ATHENS 


189 


by  no  means  so  striking  as  its  decorations.  The 
floor  is  laid  with  pebbles  arranged  in  a  neat  geometric 
pattern,  and  the  walls  are  done  in  fresco ;  this  is 
something  of  a  novelty  in  house-furnishing.  The 
painter  himself,  though  a  versatile  fellow,  did  not 
like  the  job,  and  Alkibiades  had  kept  him  literally 
under  lock  and  key  till  it  was  finished.  What 
scruples  he  entertained  against  his  patron's  new- 
fangled extravagance,  we  cannot  precisely  learn. 
In  any  case,  they  were  groundless,  for  in  due  course 
frescoes  became  all  the  fashion. 

On  the  side  of  the  court  facing  the  street  entrance 
is  the  door  through  which  the  ladies  have  just  made 
their  blushing  exit.  To  be  caught  by  strangers  in 
the  males'  quarter  of  the  house  would  be  a  grave 
impropriety  :  similarly  it  would  be  a  gross  breach 
of  etiquette  to  follow  them  through  that  door. 
Nevertheless  it  is  perhaps  permissible  to  peep  in 
upon  their  *  Withdrawing  Room.'  Here  we  may 
see  a  second  and  even  smaller  court  planted  with  a 
few  flowers  and  bushes ;  upon  its  farther  side  is  an 
open  loggia  or  recess,  nicely  planned  to  be  shady 
in  summer,  and  sunny  in  winter.  In  the  room  to 
the  left  of  this  the  master  and  mistress  of  the  house 
sleep.  Round  the  court  are  more  cells,  some  used 
as  storerooms  or  kitchens,  one  for  the  oil  tank,  but 
all  are  upon  a  very  small  scale,  for  space  is  precious 
in  the  city  and  a  house  must  be  planned  as  best 
may  be.  Indeed  the  next-door  neighbours  have  been 
forced  to  build  an  upper  story  and  to  send  their 
womenfolk  to  bed  up  a  ladder. 

The  Uving  rooms,  in  short,  are  few,  very  simple, 
and  more  than  a  little  draughty,  nor  is  the  furniture 
designed  for  comfort.     There  is,  to  our  thinking, 


|\t 


190        THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

very  little  to  sit  down  upon.     But  even  more  re- 
markable than  the  scarcity  of  chairs  is  the  super- 
abundance of  caskets,   chests  and  cabinets.      The 
Greeks  for  fear  of  thieving  slaves  kept  everything 
locked  away  in  boxes,  and  very  elegant  these  recep- 
tacles were,  often  inlaid  with  patterns,  and  resting 
upon  feet  carved  to  represent  the  talons  of  some 
bird   or   beast.     Upon   the   walls   there   were,    of 
course,  no  pictures,  but  a  few  stray  objects  hung 
by  nails,  a  harp,  a  lamp,  or  a  mirror.     In  the  corner 
stand  a  row  of  painted  jars,  and  a  neat  row  of  them 
may  look,  as  Xenophon  remarks,  exceedingly  hand- 
some.   Dne  larger  than  the  rest  is  a  precious  heir- 
loom.    Upon  its  side,  in  red  and  black,  is  a  primitive 
portrait    of    Athena   striking   a   warlike   attitude ; 
and  there  is  an  inscription,  '  I  am  from  the  games 
at  Athens.'     It  is  a  record  of  the  athletic  prowess 
of  some   family   champion,   long   since   dead.     In 
the  bedrooms  are  miniature  statues  and  a  domestic 
shrine  or  two  ;  these,  together  with  an  immense 
quantity  of  rugs  and  blankets  and  cushions,  and, 
in  the  dining-room,  couches  and  footstools,  complete 
the   inventory  of   the   furniture.     No   books,^  no 
pictures,  no  fireplaces  or  wash-stands  :  these  latter 
ace  portable  and  are  introduced  at  need.     There 
are  no  tables,  for  when  a  Greek  writes  he  writes 
upon  his  knee  ;    while  the  dining-table  comes  to 
the  diner,  not  he  to  the  table,  which  indeed  is 
nothing  but  a  stool. 

But,  when  all  is  said,  the  living-rooms  were  not 
meant  to  live  in.  The  centre  of  family  hfe  is  the 
open-air  court.     This  court  is  the  scene  of  con- 

^  Books  (if  the  house  boasted  any,  which  was  rare)  were  kept  rolled 
up  in  boxes.     Euripides  possessed  a  library. 


A  HOME  IN  ATHENS 


191 


stant  traffic,  for  there  is  no  other  means  of  com- 
munication between  room  and  room.  Through  it 
slaves  are  for  ever  passing  to  and  fro,  and  the  street 
door  opens  full  upon  it.^ 

Yet,  as  though  the  ideal  life  were  one  perpetual 
picnic,  Greeks  preferred  to  take  their  luncheon 
here  under  the  open  sky.  Manifestly  in  this  court 
which  served  the  functions  of  back-stairs,  chapel, 
summer-house,  and  parlour  all  rolled  into  one,  some 
seclusion  from  the  outer  world  there  may  be,  but 
privacy  there  is  none. 

Such  then  is  the  house,  to  Alkibiades  a  residence, 
but  for  his  wife,  in  some  real  sense,  a  home,  since 
within  its  four  walls  lies  for  her  the  be-all  and  end- 
all  of  existence.  Hipparete  had  from  her  earliest 
years  known  no  more  of  liberty  than  Danae  in  her 
Brazen  Tower,  and,  as  a  married  woman,  she  was 
still  merely  a  minister  to  her  lord's  pleasures,  a 
tame  and  useful  pet,  in  the  eye  of  the  law  a  minor, 
in  the  eye  of  the  world  the  merest  fraction  of  a 
soul,  incapable  alike  of  deep  emotion  or  of  decent 
self-restraint.^  Her  experience  of  life  would  teach 
her  the  qualities  of  a  matron  and  leave  her  the 
mind  of  a  child.  To  be  seen  and  not  heard  was 
held  out  to  her  as  a  woman's  rule  of  conduct. 
Her  education  was  shockingly  neglected ;  for 
though  she  had  heard  Protagoras  and  Hippias  at 
their   discourses  in  her  father's  house,   she  could 


i   !l 


*  Visitors  expected  to  be  readily  admitted,  even  if  the  master  was 
taking  his  bath  ! 

*  This  would  apply  less  to  the  working-class  whose  necessities  for- 
bade much  seclusion.  And  perhaps  towards  the  end  of  the  fifth  century 
a  movement  towards  the  emancipation  of  women  was  taking  place. 
This  is  reflected  in  Euripides'  heroines  and  even  to  some  extent  in 
Aristophanes'  plays. 


192 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


barely  tell  a  kappa  from  a  khi^  and  was  incapable  of 
deciphering  a  line  of  Homer.  Politics,  she  was  told 
(did  she  dare  to  put  a  question),  were  none  of  her 
business.  If  company  came  to  the  house,  she  and 
her  attendants  retired  within  their  quarters,  and 
the  door  of  that  wing  was  bolted  till  the  guests 
had  gone.  Outings  were  few  and  far  between ; 
festivals,  welcome  as  Bank  Holidays,  were  all  too 
rare.  In  any  case,  to  cross  the  doorstep  she  must 
first  gain  her  husband's  leave,  or  brave  his  anger 
after.  On  such  occasions,  if  she  went  unaccom- 
panied by  at  least  one  maid,  tongues  wagged,  and 
if  after  a  taste  of  the  outer  air  or  the  sight  of  her 
poorer  neighbours  at  their  gossip  round  the  fountain, 
she  was  roused  to  some  show  of  spirit  and  ventured 
upon  some  harmless  escapade  of  her  own,  why, 
then,  *  minx,'  'hussy,'  'jade' — no  words  were  bad 
enough.  Scandalised  husbands  shook  their  heads, 
comic  poets  discanted  on  the  Ughtness  of  the  sex. 
Not  even  Bumble  himself  was  so  deeply  shocked 
when  Oliver  disclosed  an  appetite  for  food.  So 
the  poor  lady  would  return  to  her  former  ways, 
become  again  a  model  of  propriety  and  view  life, 
like  some  Turkish  bride,  from  behind  a  lattice,  till 
malicious  tongues,  at  a  loss  to  account  for  how  she 
spent  her  time,  would  declare  she  had  taken  to 
drink.  ^ 

But  once  she  is  the  mother  of  a  family,^  time  will 
not  hang  so  heavy  on  her  hands  as  all  that.  She 
will  have  her  daughter  to  train  against  the  day  of 
marriage ;   her  sons  will  go  to  school  at  seven,  but 

*  An  accusation  constantly  levelled  against  the  sex  in  Aristophanes. 
'  In  point  of  fact,  Alkibiades'  married  life  was  short,  for  he   left 
Athens  soon  after  his  marriage. 


A  HOME  IN  ATHENS 


193 


till  then  they  are  under  the  jurisdiction  of  the 
maternal  slipper.  She  will  have  to  see  her  children 
well  supplied  with  toys ;  tops,  go-carts,  hoops  and 
dolls  must  be  bought  as  presents  when  the  Diasia 
comes  round.  A  swing  must  be  slung  under  the 
verandah  for  the  girls,  while  the  boys  will  more 
readily  amuse  themselves,  cutting  toy-frogs  from 
pomegranate  seeds,  building  mud  castles,  and  even 
upon  occasions  bringing  home  a  tame  weasel  or  a 
tori:oise.  Again,  with  children  in  the  house,  as 
Medea  says,  'There  are  diseases.'  The  Kfe  of  a 
mother  could  not  easily  be  dull. 

Motherhood  is  an  Athenian  woman's  first  con- 
cern and  her  chief  glory— after  that  will  come  her 
husband.  Her  duty  towards  him  has  perhaps  no 
special  sanctity  (she  did  not  marry  him  for  love), 
but  she  will  not  fail  in  it.  The  whimsical  Alki- 
biades  is  not  an  easy  husband  to  please.  But  after 
having  run  away  once  at  a  great  explosion  of  temper, 
she  has  done  her  best.  Her  lord  values  himself 
on  her  good  looks  ;  she  must  spend  hours  daily  on 
her  toilette.  Women  of  the  best  circles  are  blessed, 
by  reason  of  their  sedentary  habits,  with  sallow  com- 
plexions ;  for  this  rouge  is  a  recognised  remedy.  The 
hair  also  can  be  dyed  and  eyebrows  painted.  Perfumes, 
scents  and  unguents  she  keeps  in  innumerable  caskets, 
and  of  hairpins  and  combs  there  is  a  formidable 
armoury.     Her  maid  is  a  past  mistress  of  coiffures. 

She  has  the  more  time  to  spend  on  such  details, 
since  her  wardrobe  is  comparatively  simple.  Hats, 
for  example,  are,  except  in  traveUing,  practically 
unknown.  Her  dress,  like  that  of  the  men,  is  com- 
posed of  an  over  and  under  garment,  each  consisting 
merely  of  an  oblong  piece  of  woollen  cloth  folded 


N 


m 


194        THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

in  a  certain  way  about  the  body,  and  fixed  in  place 
by  brooches  and  pins.  Nevertheless  a  large  portion 
of  her  Hfe  is  concerned  with  making  of  such  garments; 
for  a  good  housewife  will  manufacture,  as  well  as 
ornament,  the  material,  and  she  may  be  seen  at  any 
hour  of  the  day  seated  upon  a  folding  stool  in  the 
cool  of  the  verandah,  intent  upon  her  spinning. 
In  one  hand  is  the  long  distaff,  with  its  wad  of  raw 
wool — it  is  her  pride  to  see  that  it  is  of  the  best 
quality  from  Miletus,  and  that  the  roguish  dealer 
does  not  damp  it  and  sell  her  under-weight — the 
other  hand,  by  an  occasional  touch  of  the  fingers, 
keeps  the  spindle  twirling  down  between  her  feet. 
Under  her  skilful  manipulation  the  thread  draws  out 
fine  and  even  until  the  wad  is  all  exhausted.  Then 
she  will  pass  this  task  on  to  a  handmaid,  and, 
ashamed  herself  to  sit  about  all  day  like  a  slave, 
she  will  pass  busily  to  and  fro  among  her  workers, 
see  that  they  do  not  chew  at  their  spinning,  or  idle 
at  the  loom.  And  she  will  set  the  skilled  hands, 
when  the  piece  of  cloth  is  finished,  to  embroider 
some  lovely  frieze  of  animals  and  flowers  (such  as 
in  the  Aegean  Islands  they  have  not  yet  forgotten 
how  to  make).  First  and  last,  the  garment  will  cost 
a  deal  of  trouble,  and  a  good  mistress  has  stores  of 
such,  stowed  away  in  chests,  for  her  husband  and 
herself ;  they  were  one  of  her  principal  concerns. 
She  would  spend  much  of  her  leisure  in  taking 
them  out,, unfolding,  refolding,  and  putting  them 
back.  One  fussy  old  husband  actually  recom- 
mended this  pastime  to  a  young  wife  as  capital 
exercise  for  the  body !  She  might,  if  she  were 
particular,  go  further  and  occupy  some  educated 
slave  to  make  a  careful  inventory.    It  would  be  a 


A  HOME  IN  ATHENS 


19s 


grand  list,  falling  under  the  several  heads,  to  wit, 
every-day  clothes  for  men,  ditto  for  women,  special 
holy-day  garments,  men's  sandals,  women's  sandals, 
weapons,  utensils  for  baking  and  washing,  sacrificial 
utensils,  silver  plate,  gold  plate,  earthenware  :  not 
to  mention  the  furniture  of  which,  in  Alkibiades' 
case,  a  list  has  actually  survived.  The  items  though 
incomplete  are  as  follows  : — 

Cabinet  with  folding  doors. 

Ditto  with  double  set  of  doors. 

Sofa  with  Milesian  tapestry. 

Tables. 

Pallet-bed  with  head-piece. 

Linen  curtain. 

Alabaster  box. 

Stools. 

Divan. 

Wicker  basket. 

At  noon  all  this  business  would  stop  :  the  Mil- 
esian sofa  would  be  pulled  out  ready  for  her  hus- 
band's return.  When  he  came  there  must  be  a 
slave  waiting  to  wash  his  feet  :  and  when  he  lay 
dov/n,  she  would  sit  upon  a  stool  to  watch  him  eat 
and  recommend  this  dehcacy  or  that.  In  the  course 
of  the  meal  it  would  transpire  that  he  had  asked 
such  and  such  company  to  supper,  and  although 
Hipparete  would  not  be  present  to  play  the  hostess 
(for  the  only  feast  a  woman  ever  attended  was  her 
wedding  banquet),  yet  it  would  rest  with  her  to 
order  the  dinner  and  make  other  arrangements.  She 
must  send  to  the  myrtle-mart  for  garlands,  borrow 
extra  lamps  from  a  neighbour,  and  set  a  whole 
regiment  of  slaves  upon  their  several  businesses. 


196 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


It  is  the  management  of  this  large  domestic  staflF 
that  most  taxed  the  young  housewife's  powers. 
The  slaves  are  very  numerous  :  no  self-respecting 
family  keeps  less  than  a  dozen,  and  how  the  next- 
door  neighbours  contrive  to  exist  on  two,  surpasses 
comprehension.  Besides,  slaves  are,  strange  to  say, 
averse  to  work  and  require  much  driving.  The 
females  are  docile  enough  ;  the  men  are  obsequious 
to  Alkibiades,  for  he  once  killed  one  in  a  temper  : 
but  he  is  not  always  at  home  and  then  they  are 
quarrelsome  and  cantankerous.  The  ^  market-boy  ' 
is  jealous  of  the  '  water-boy,'  whom  he  believes  to 
have  the  lighter  job.  The  latter  answers  his  insults 
by  swearing  horribly  in  his  native  Phrygian  lingo. 
The  '  secretary '  looks  down  upon  the  rest,  pluming 
himself  on  a  smattering  of  knowledge  picked  up  by 
listening  at  the  schoolroom  door  in  his  young  days 
when  he  was  acting  '  tutor.'  Sometimes  the  slaves 
will  be  impertinent.  The  new  lackey,  for  instance, 
is  far  too  free  and  easy — his  previous  master  liked 
to  be  amused  by  chatter  when  they  were  walking 
out,  but  Alkibiades  will  not  tolerate  his  loquacity, 
and  the  fellow  has  been  in  a  pillory  a  dozen  times 
this  month  past  as  the  price  of  a  jest.  As  a  result, 
the  '  lamp-boy '  has  caught  the  habit  and  is  never 
tired  now,  when  the  oil  splutters,  of  repeating  the 
stale  joke  about  the  lamp  wick.^  It  will  not  be  long 
before  his  mistress  has  him  sold,  for  he  is  forgetful 
into  the  bargain  ;  last  March,  for  instance,  when 
there  was  a  late  fall  of  snow  on  the  hills  and  all  the 
beggar  men  of  the  town  were  crowding  round  the 

*  What  precisely  the  humorous  aspect  of  a  lamp  wick  was  we  do  not 
know,  but  it  tickled  the  Athenian  mind  so  much  that  Aristophanes  is 
full  of  it. 


A  HOME  IN  ATHENS 


197 


stoves  in  the  public  baths,  the  careless  feUow  had 
not  enough  charcoal  for  the  braziers.^ 

The  eldest  and  most  trustworthy  of  the  slaves 
has  just  bought  his  freedom.     Alkibiades  was  loath 
to  part  with  him,  but  his  savings   (deposited  at 
Delphi)  had  covered  more  than  his  full  price  in  the 
market,  so  the  master  made  a  virtue  of  necessity 
and  gave  his  consent.     His  fellow-slaves  are  jealous 
of  his  luck,  and  affect  not  to  understand  how  he 
can  leave  the  warm  house  and  the  good  barley-mash 
to  bury  himself  in  a  hovel,  a  wretched  place,  they 
say,  with  a  straw  bed  full  of  fleas,  an  old  barrel-end 
for  a  chair  and  a  dinner  off  radish  ends  and  mallow. 
It  is  all  put  down  to  ambition.     There  is  a  wager 
among  them  that  within  the  year  he  will  have  grown 
his  hair  long  to  hide  that  tell-tale  scar  where  he  was 
branded  in  his  youth   for  a  runaway.     Soon,   no 
doubt,   he  will  worm  his  way  on   to   the  roll   of 
citizens  and  change  his  name  hke  that  notorious 
rogue  who  started  hfe  as  Sosias,  blossomed  out  as 
Sosistratus  on  campaign,  and  now  cuts  a  popular 
figure  in  the  Pnyx  under  the  democratic  title  of 
Sosidemus.2    The  worst  of  it  is  that  no  money  can 
replace  the  steward.     Alkibiades  would  gladly  give 
three   or    four   minae    but,    since    the   war    began 
and    so    many   went    over    the    frontier,    there    is 
a    dearth    of   good    slaves.      Just    lately,    however, 
the   captives    have   been   coming  in   from   Melos, 
and  at  the  new-moon  fair  the  market  may  easily 
be  glutted. 

*  As  in  most  modem  Greek  houses,  there  was  no  fireplace  j  a  port- 
able brazier  was  brought  in  on  the  rare  occasions  when  it  was  really 
cold. 

*  It  would  be  easy  enough,  but  invidious,  to  find  modem  parallels  to 
this  chianging  of  names  with  condition  or  ambition. 


198 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


All  the  slaves  will  pilfer  shamelessly ;  and  it 
requires  as  many  eyes  as  Argus  to  spy  upon  the  lot 
of  them.  The  plate  chest  and  the  store  cupboards 
must  be  kept  under  seal ;  but  however  intricate 
the  signet  is,  they  will  forge  it  down  to  the  very 
worm-holes  or  the  smallest  crack.  There  is  no 
keeping  them  out ;  and  if  they  are  taken  in  the 
act,  they  will  swear  the  cat  did  it,  and  when  no  one 
is  looking,  be  off  over  the  roofs  and  claim  sanctuary 
at  the  Temple  of  Theseus.  It  is  upon  the  mistress 
rather  than  the  master  that  the  supervision  of  the 
slaves  devolves.  The  husband  will  perhaps  see  that 
the  bastinado  is  properly  administered,  or,  if  a  slave 
is  more  than  usually  intractable,  threaten  him  with 
gang  work  in  the  mines. ^  But  the  brunt  of  the 
management  will  still  fall  upon  the  wife.  A  lazy 
husband  will  even  leave  to  her  all  the  minor  services 
of  religion,  the  offering  of  the  '  first-fruits '  of  a 
meal,  the  monthly  wreath  for  the  domestic  altar, 
or  the  visit  paid  to  the  family  tombs. 

Nevertheless,  it  was  the  received  opinion  that 
women  were  the  drones  of  the  community.  And 
in  the  Greek's  eyes  a  land  like  Egypt,  where  men  sat 
idle  and  women  did  the  work,  seemed  utter  topsy- 
turvydom. When  the  wits  said,  as  they  were 
fond  of  saying,  *  Do  not  ask  a  lady  :  she  is  far  too 
busy,'  it  would  be  '  meant  sarcastic'  A  few  men 
were  found,  perhaps  one  in  a  thousand,  some  stray 
philosopher  or  poet,  to  entertain  a  lurking  sympathy 
and  deplore  the  injustice  done  to  the  sex,  but  they 
were  misunderstood  and  could  scarcely  command 

*  Of  the  working  of  the  Laurlon  silver  mines  by  slave  labour  and  the 
brutalities  equal  to  the  worst  atrocities  of  the  slave-trade,  an  excellent 
description  may  be  read  in  Zimmem^s  Greek  Commorfwealth. 


A  HOME  IN  ATHENS 


199 


a  hearing.  Yet  it  would  be  an  error  to  suppose 
that  all  Athenian  wives  were  despised  and  down- 
trodden creatures.  Sokrates,  we  know,  was  married 
to  a  shrew. 

The  brightest  days  in  the  woman's  calendar  were 
those  great  festivals  of  the  State  in  which  she  played 
a  part,  and  often  an  important  part.  Girls  carried 
baskets  in  the  grand  procession  to  Athena's  temple, 
and  remembered  it  all  their  lives.  The  women  con- 
gregated yearly  on  the  roof-tops  and  conducted 
mimic  funerals  in  mourning  for  Adonis.  Many 
such  rites  were  specially  confined  to  women,  and  all 
males  were  excluded  with  rigour.^  One  of  these, 
which  took  place  at  the  fall  of  the  year,  was  carried 
out  with  exceptional  secrecy.  The  greater  part  of 
the  festival,  which  lasted  several  days,  they  spent  in 
mourning  and  lamentation,  beating  their  breasts, 
tearing  their  hair.  They  sat  all  night  fasting  upon 
the  ground  with  torches  in  their  hands,  and  in 
general  rehearsed,  by  pantomime,  the  Descent  of 
Persephone  to  Hades  and  the  wild  grief  of  her 
distracted  mother.  On  the  last  day  the  ritual 
took  a  more  cheerful  strain,  and,  like  the  greater 
Mysteries  of  Eleusis,  symbolised  a  re-birth  and 
triumphant  return  of  life.  During  all  these  days 
and  nights  the  women  congregated  in  the  precinct 
of  the  temple.  It  was,  in  effect,  a  manner  of 
'  retreat,'  and  they  broke  away  for  once  from  the 
tyranny  of  home-life.  For  some  time  previous 
also  they  were  in  the  custom  of  forgathering  to 
rehearse  the  dancing-figures  which  were  so  impor- 
tant a  feature  of  the  ritual  and  required  no  little 

*  Compare  the  Dorsetshire  women-clubs  and  their  festivals  mentioned 
by  "l^homas  Hardy. 


I 


200         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

practice.     This  opened  the  door  to  the  forming  of 
friendships,  and  it  must  not  be  imagined  that  a 
wife    was    totally    debarred    from    female    society. 
Calls  were  paid,  upon  one  pretext  or  another,  and 
often,  no  doubt,  one  young  Athenian  lady  would 
pay  her  confidante  a  visit  and  take  her  off  to  view 
some  pubHc  gala.     And,  on  such  occasions,  there 
would  be  the  usual  time  expended  upon  the  com- 
parison   of    husbands    and    the    typical    feminine 
gossip.     Praxinoe  would  retail  to  Gorgo  her  man's 
latest  folly  :   how  he  had  gone  to  market  for  soap 
and  rouge,  and  come  back  home  with  salt.     '  Mine,' 
cries  the  other  not  to  be  outdone,   'is  just  such 
another.     Yesterday  he  bought  five  mangy  fleeces, 
utter  trash,  and  oh  such  a  business  spinning,  and 
actually  paid  eight  drachmae  down,  the  great  big 
booby  !  '— *  Hush,  madam,'  whispers  the  first, '  don't 
speak  so  with  the  baby  by ' ;  then  to  the  baby,  '  her 
not  mean  papa.'—'  La,'  cries  the  delighted  mother, 
'  but  it  understands.     Nice  papa,  then.'     So  they 
carry  on  till  the  hour  presses  and  it  is  time,  in  the 
guest's   opinion,    that   they   were   starting.     'Ah,' 
sighs  the  lady  of  the  house,  wishing  it  to  appear  she 
cannot  spare  a  moment, '  to  folk  of  leisure,  Hfe  's  all 
pleasure,'  and  with  that  puts  on  her  shawl.     The 
maid  is  told  to  bring  soap  and  water  :    the  water 
she  contrives,  the  wasteful  huzzy,  to  spill  all  down 
her  mistress's  dress ;  she  is  scolded  and  told  to  clear 
the  floor  of  the  htter  of  wool,  and  finally  the  key 
of  the  cabinet  is  safely  pocketed  ;   the  child  wishes 
to  be  taken  too,  is  easily  scared  out  of  the  idea  by 
awful  threats,    '  Bogy  !      GtQ-g^Q   bites  !  '   and  off 
they  go  discussing  the  price  of  a  new  bodice  '  that 
cost— don't  speak  of  it— two  minae,   solid  cash.' 


A  HOME  IN  ATHENS 


20I 


So  women  talked  in  antiquity.^  Thus  is  the  gap  of 
twenty  centuries  curtailed,  not  to  say  annihilated, 
by  an  elegant  trifling  upon  the  two  eternal  topics, 
the  ineptitude  of  husbands  and  the  price  of  dress. 

Change  indeed,  if  not  a  pure  illusion,  is  at  least  a 
growth  incalculably  slow.  A  woman's  hfe  was  full 
then,  as  now,  of  the  business  of  engrossing  trifles, 
of  small  opportunities  for  piety  and  kindness  and 
of  formed  affections.  Marriage,  it  is  true,  was 
never,  not  even  in  the  imagination  of  the  poets,  a 
romance.  Yet  it  is  not  always  the  love  match 
that  works  the  closest  tie.  And  the  marriages 
arranged  by  parents  must  have  often  produced  in 
ancient,  as  in  modern  Greece,  a  relationship  of 
mutual  dependence  and  regard.  At  any  rate,  there 
was  to  be  found,  even  in  the  less  ideal  husbands, 
not  chivalry  perhaps,  but  at  least  a  fine  consideration 
for  their  wives.  One  we  know  of  who  put  himself 
to  a  grave  discomfort  and  migrated  to  the  upper 
loft  of  the  house  to  save  his  lady  a  dangerous  climb. 
Men  would  check  in  their  women's  presence  the 
coarse  language  of  male  society, ^  and  however 
much  we  pity  their  enforced  seclusion,  there  is 
something  beautiful  in  this  ideal  of  Athenian 
womanhood,  sheltered  as  if  in  some  high-walled 
garden,  and  protected  in  a  measure  from  the  gross 
and  flagrant  coarseness  of  the  times. 

Nor  did  the  woman  fail  of  her  part.  She  too 
was  capable  of  a  close  fidelity ;    many  a  marriage 

^  This  conversation  is  drawn  from  the  dialogue  between  two  ladies 
of  fashion  which  Theokritos  wrote  in  Alexandria;  this  might  have 
been  quoted  in  full,  were  it  not  that  it  is  much  of  it  stamped  with  a 
sophisticated  and  supercilious  affectation,  which  is  typical  of  Hellenistic 
over-civilisation  and  foreign  to  the  direct  and  plain-spoken  fifth  century. 

'  In  Dorian  Syracuse  such  an  offence  was  punished  by  a  fine. 


\ 


202         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

contracted  as  a  bargain  and  begun  without  enthu- 
siasm grew  with  the  process  of  years  into  an  ingrained 
devotion  and  a  tie,  the  sundering  of  which,  when 
Death  rattled  at  the  door  and  the  man  was  picked 
for  Hermes'  passenger,  would  leave,  we  cannot 
doubt,  one  blank  Kfe  and  one  bitter  heart  behind. 
The  world  at  large  watched  with  mere  contempt 
the  ugly  excesses  of  her  grief,  the  torn  hair,  beaten 
breast  and  shrieking  dirge,  and  all  the  outward  liveries 
of  mourning,!  and  subscribed,  in  its  general  judg- 
ment, to  the  opinion  of  the  dying  Sokrates,  who, 
with  an  almost  painful  brutahty,  dismissed  the 
womenfolk  early  in  the  day,  because  he  said  they 
could  not  be  trusted  to  behave. 

But  that  man  perhaps  had  a  deeper  insight  and  a 
sounder  faith  in  the  companionship  of  the  home, 
who  carved  upon  wayside  tombstones  those  con- 
trolled but  sad-eyed  scenes  of  parting,  or  he  who 
wrote  this  quiet  and  tender  epitaph  ^  : — 

*  O  Atthis,  mine  through  life,  mine  to  thy  latest  breath, 
Thou  my  past  happiness,  my  present  sorrow! 

Lost  one,  in  what  lone  sleep  now  sadly  slumbereth 

That  hallow'd  head,  none  from  my  breast  might  borrow. 

For  me,  when  thou  didst  pass  down  the  dark  way  of  Death, 
Dead  lay  life's  hopes ;  to  Theios  comes  no  morrow.' 


*  A  law  of  Solon  which  forbade  such  extravagant  hysteria  seems  from 
the  evidence  we  possess  to  have  been  a  dead  letter. 

*  In  fact  the  practice  of  Athenians  was,  as  in  much  else,  in  advance 
of  their  theory  as  regarded  women.  The  same  was  certainly  true  of 
their  treatment  of  slaves. 


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XVI.  ATHENS 

*  Who  has  not  seen  Athens  Is  a  blockhead.' 

(Ancient  Saying.) 

At  Megara  the  wise  traveller  from  the  Isthmus 
calls  a  halt.  It  is  the  half-way  house  to  Athens, 
and  from  here  the  second  stage  is  a  full  day's  march, 
and  long  at  that.  The  road  runs  between  the  hills 
and  sea  over  dusty,  sun-scorched  flats.  First  the 
frontier  is  passed,  then  the  small  hillocks  of  Eleusis, 
and  at  length  the  traveller  is  pushing  up  the  steep 
incline  and  through  the  straggling  pinewoods  of 
Aigaleos, — till  there  comes  a  moment  when  the 
road  sweeps  clear  of  the  trees,  and,  as  it  takes  the 
downward  slope,  the  eye  may  catch,  spread  wide 
beneath,  the  first  sudden  vision  of  the  Attic  plain. 

It  is  such  a  sight  at  which  a  man,  coming  on 
it  suddenly  and  for  the  first  time,  might  justly 
pause.  Yet,  though  it  chanced  one  summer's 
day  that  a  Greek  traveller  arrived  at  this  very 
point  and  halted  there,  that  vision  did  not  touch 
nor  at  all  hold  his  mind.  The  Greeks  indeed 
had  little  conscious  taste  for  natural  beauty.  To 
their  minds  the  mountains  appeared  much  as  they 
appear  to  the  animals  which  wander  on  their 
slopes.  They  took  scenery,  as  it  were,  for  granted  : 
and  even  an  Athenian,  when  he  boasted  of  his 
city  *  violet-crowned,'  thought  much  of  the  city 
and  very  little  of  her  violet  hills.     Moreover,  this 

SOi 


ATHENS 


205 


particular  traveller  was  moved  by  no  such  senti- 
ments. He  was  a  Spartan ;  and  Spartans  had  no 
call  to  feel  much  love  for  Athens. 

For  ourselves  it  must  be  different.  If  then  we 
wish  to  study  the  natural  topography  of  Attica, 
we  can  do  no  better  than  linger  at  this  point, 
while  our  Spartan  goes  jogging  down  the  winding 
road  to  meet  the  open  plain.  Here,  from  our 
Pisgah  summit,  we  may  well  take  stock  of  this,  the 
Promised  Land  of  the  scholar's  pilgrimage. 

The  plain  is  long  and  narrow.  From  range  to 
range  of  the  hills  between  which  it  lies,  the  distance 
is  something  short  of  ten  miles,  the  length  from 
sea  to  mountain  perhaps  twenty.  Confronting  us 
across  the  plain  rises  the  bold  blunt  outline  of 
Hymettos ;  in  contour  like  our  Sussex  downs,  but 
higher,  grander  and  less  smooth.  Farms  nestle 
on  its  fore-slopes ;  sheep  are  grazed  on  its  summit 
where  the  heather,  they  say,  is  the  best  food  for 
bees  in  all  the  world,  the  land  of  the  Alazones 
alone  excepted  (wherever  that  may  be).  Far  away 
on  our  left,  the  north  end  of  the  plain  is  closed 
in  by  a  mountain  of  lively  angularity.  This  is 
Pentelikos  ;  its  marble  has  no  equal ;  the  white 
streaks  on  its  sides  are  the  famous  quarries.  The 
mass  of  it  is  misty  blue  in  the  summer  haze ;  bluer 
still  with  a  full  rich  colour  that  startles  Northern 
eyes,  the  sea  stretches  away  on  our  right.  There 
are  islands  in  it,  and  ships  with  gay  sails  making 
for  Peiraieus.  The  plain  fixed  between  these  limits 
is  not  rolling  like  the  Weald  of  Sussex,  but  quite 
flat.  Here  and  there  are  rocky  knolls  thrust  up 
nakedly  from  the  grey-green  sheet  of  olive  orchards  ; 
and  you  may  count  among  the  tree-tops  perhaps  a 


2o6 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


score  of  hamlets  from  Kephisia  under  Pentelikos 
to  Phaleron  down  by  the  sea. 

Just  below  us,  where  the  muleteers  have  reached 
the  bottom  of  the  slope,  and  are  already  plunging 
under  the  shade  of  the  olives,  our  eyes  can  trace  out 
the  line  of  the  white  road  where  it  cuts  direct 
across  the  plain  between  its  avenue  of  trees.  It 
seems  to  lead  towards  a  huddle  of  low  hills,  sunburnt 
and  treeless ;  and  dominant  among  these  is  a  great 
square  rock — such  a  rock  as  would  have  roused  the 
envy  of  your  feudal  baron — from  the  top  of  which 
comes  a  hard  white  glint  as  of  marble.  You  may 
know  it  even  at  this  distance  for  the  front  of  a 
temple.  It  is  the  Parthenon,  and  Athens  lies 
beneath  its  shadow. 

There  are,  when  all  is  said,  fairer  views  in  the 
world  and  grander  views  even  in  Greece.  Con- 
sidered from  a  calculation  of  mere  distances,  how 
insignificant  and  puny  is  this  little  strip  of  fertile 
plain,  gleaming  like  some  slender  green  streak  of 
precious  ore  in  the  mountainous  limestone  bed 
of  the  Attic  peninsula.  Yet  this  little  country 
nursed  a  great  race.  We  cannot  but  honour  the 
fields  that  were  tilled  by  this  brave  small  people, 
the  world's  pioneers  in  Thought  and  Art,  and  we 
can  find  only  praise  and  reverence  for  the  hills 
that  stood  about  so  beautiful  a  city.  And  now  it 
were  better  to  avoid  the  historian's  besetting  sin, 
and  instead  of  making  a  map  and  putting  in  the 
names  (and  how  clearly  from  a  Greek  hill-top  does 
the  map  lie  plotted  out  under  the  eye),  to  rise  and 
hurry  after  the  mule-train.  We  may  yet  catch 
our  traveller  upon  the  outskirts  of  the  city. 

Lining  the  road  outside  the  gates  is  an  avenue 


ATHENS 


207 


of  stately  tombs ;   they  are  of  marvellous  diversity, 
big  tombs  with  brazen  bulls  above  them,  little  tombs 
with  no  more  than  a  modest  pillar  or  a  long-necked 
jar  of  marble  ;  slabs  sculptured  with  peaceful  scenes 
of  domestic  happiness  and  tender  partings ;  ^  pom- 
pous cenotaphs  blatant  with  the  names  of  the  un- 
remembered,  and  here  and  there  a  single  line  carved 
as  a  simple  record  of  the  great  dead.     Where  stood 
the  farthest  of  these  monuments,  carved  for  some 
latest  victim  of  the  plague,  the  traveller  was  accosted 
by  a  slave  who  had  been  posted  here  for  the  pur- 
pose by  Alkibiades,  his  master.     After  a  brief  greet- 
ing the  two  pass  on  through  the  leafy  suburb,  down 
that  line  of  mournful  mild-eyed  sentinels  in  stone  : 
and  presently  they  come  to  the  so-called  Dipylon 
or   *  Double    gate.'      There    they   find   the   usual 
crowd  dawdHng,  conversing  and  passing  in  and  out, 
and  the  usual  scene  of  leisurely  aimless  bustle,  of 
which  the  Greek  knew  so  well  the  secret.     What  a 
strange  confusion  of  gay  colours,  and  strong  smells 
and  high-pitched  voices  !     Cloaks  of  white  or  green 
or  brown  or  with  purple  trimmings ;  yellow  shawls 
over    the    women's    heads ;    arms    naked    to    the 
shoulder,  incessant  in  gesticulation;  legs  naked  to 
the  knee  and  grimy  with  the  dust ;    the  sunburnt 
shoulders  of  the  men  and  the  sallow  cheeks  of  the 
women  ;   the  whole  air  full  of  a  dry  stench  of  dust 
and  carrion  and  the  salted  bloaters  borne  on  the 
fishmonger's    tray.     The    fortune-teller    and    the 
inevitable  beggar  haunt  the  gate  ;   naked  children 
play  and  tumble  in  the  sand.     A  Megarian  peasant, 
with  a  couple  of  pigs  in  a  sack,  is  shaking  his  fist 

>  Most  of  these  farewell  scenes  date,  it  is  true,  from  the  fourth 
century. 


2o8         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

at  the  Keeper  of  the  Tolls  and  swearing  loudly  in 
his  native  brogue,  when  the  Spartan  comes  under 
the  gate.  A  nod  from  the  official  to  the  slave, 
and  the  pair  enter  unmolested  as  they  passed  within 
the  great  town-walls  which  Themistokles  built  after 
the  Persian  sack,  the  silent  stranger  looked  up  at  this 
stout  masonry  and  made  his  first  sardonic  comment. 
'  Heigh  wa's  for  auld  wives,  a  'm  thinkin','  he  said. 
For,  Spartan-like,  his  respect  for  fortresses  was  small, 
and  as  a  Dorian  his  accent  was  exceeding  broad. 

Just  inside  these  walls  and  adjacent  to  the  Double 
gate  is  the  quarter  known  as  the  Pottery.  Here, 
some  while  ago,  you  might  have  seen  the  manu- 
facture, from  start  to  finish,  of  Athens'  famous 
export-ware.  But  the  street  has  been  broadened 
and  planted  out  with  an  avenue  of  plane-trees. 
Stately  buildings  and  brazen  statuary  line  its  sides, 
and  the  potter  has  retreated  into  those  winding 
shadowed  alleys  to  left  or  right  of  the  main  street. 
Here,  if  you  care  to  penetrate,  you  may  see  the  work- 
shop of  some  famous  painter  of  vases,  and  watch 
all  his  assistants  at  their  tasks,  the  potter,  clay  in 
hand,  standing  at  his  wheel,  the  painter  with  his 
colour  pots  of  black  lustre  and  violet  and  white, 
the  fireman  stoking  the  furnace  and  the  slaves 
packing  the  finished  pot  for  Tuscany  or  the  Nile. 
Up  one  such  alley  the  Spartan's  guide  now  turned 
upon  his  right.  The  Spartan,  however,  was  not  yet 
of  a  mind  to  follow.  He  was  still  standing  open- 
mouthed  in  the  avenue  of  the  planes.  He  could 
not  have  stared  harder  had  the  streets  been  paved, 
like  London  in  the  story,  with  slabs  of  pure  gold. 
His  astonished  eye  surveyed  the  lofty  buildings  of 
the  market  square  towards  which  this  roadway  led, 


ATHENS 


209 


travelled  up  to  the  Citadel  aloft  and  the  glittering 
Teraples  that  crowned  it,  and  finally  passed  with 
evident  rehef  to  the  gaunt  cone  of  Lykabettos,  a 
waste  untenanted  crag  standing  there  like  the 
Akropolis'  younger  brother,  awkward,  idle  and  over- 
grown. But  the  guide  would  wait  no  longer  ;  and 
the  Spartan  was  led  to  his  lodging,  and  there — for 
it  was  now  dark  and  Alkibiades  was  from  home — 
he  was  housed  for  the  night,  not  far  from  the  hill 
known  as  the  Areopagos,  and  near  to  the  Temple  of 
Hephaistos  that  lies  under  the  hill. 

It  was  no  accident  that  had  placed  just  here  the 
shrine  of  the  god  of  Smithies  :  for  it  was  in  this 
quarter  that  the  blacksmiths  pUed  their  noisy  trade. 
And  it  was  to  the  ring  of  the  anvil  that  the  Spartan 
awoke  next  morning.  He  rubbed  his  eyes  with  his 
fists,  and,  his  toilette  being  thereby  both  begun 
and  ended,  he  stepped  to  the  street  door.  There 
he  found  his  guide  of  yesterday  already  awaiting 
him,  and  the  two  set  out  into  the  street  together 
to  find  Alkibiades.  The  great  man  had  been  out 
in  the  country  hunting  on  the  previous  evening, 
and  had  now  sent  for  the  Spartan  to  follow  him  to 
the  market-place. 

As  the  Spartan  strode  along  behind  his  guide, 
he  seemed  a  grim  and  ahen  figure  among  the  sleek 
and  merry  townsfolk.  The  naked  urchins  stopped 
in  their  game  of  knuckle-bones  to  stare  after  him, 
half  frightened  by  this  apparition  of  tattered 
homespun,  tousled  hair,  ferocity  and  dirt.  He  for 
his  part  frowned  upon  the  passers-by,  despising 
them  all  in  his  smug  Lakedaemonian  way.  No 
Puritan  could  have  been  more  clean  out  of  his 
element    in    the    streets    of    Vanity    Fair.     Their 

o 


2IO         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


shops,  their  scented  hair,  their  free  and  easy  manners 
vexed  his  self-righteous  conservative  soul.  The  sight 
of  the  public  baths  roused  his  contempt.  A  soft 
degraded  folk !  Worse  still,  there  came  the  sound 
of  a  man  singing  aloud  in  his  bath,  a  blatant  breach 
of  good  manners  even  in  this  godless  town.  The 
Spartan  shuddered  too  at  the  new-fangled  songs  he 
heard,  so  different  were  their  strange  indecorous 
trills  from  the  sedate  and  solemn  chants  of  his  own 
land.^  Nor  do  I  think  that  he  paid  much  heed  to 
the  Temples,  the  paintings  and  the  statues  that  he 
met  with  in  his  passage  through  the  streets,  many  of 
them  the  masterpieces  of  their  age.  Yet  to  Endios 
(for  such  was  his  name)  it  was  all  one  :  for  he 
knew  less  indeed  of  art  than  he  did  of  letters,  and  of 
these,  as  he  often  boasted,  he  '  kent  but  little,  and 
that  Httle  ill.' 

Nevertheless  it  was '  an  inscription  which  pres- 
ently caught  his  eye  and  brought  him  to  a  standstill. 
It  was  carved  across  a  marble  base  which  supported 
the  figures  of  two  men  in  a  warlike  posture.  Their 
names  were  already  well  known  to  him  and  their 
story  also.  Indeed  it  was  famous  throughout 
Greece.  Nearly  a  hundred  years  before  this, 
when  Athens  was  under  the  heel  of  the  usurping 
house  of  Peisistratos,  two  injured  citizens,  who  were 
sworn  friends,  had  plotted  to  kill  the  tyrant  princes. 
It  was  true  that  they  failed  dismally  :  after  killing 
the  younger  brother,  one  was  cut  down  by  the 
guards,  his  accomplice  caught  and  racked.  But 
despite  the  pitiful  issue  of  this  foolhardy  scheme, 

*  As  a  ragtime  chorus  differs  from  the  Scottish  Psalm-chants.  The 
Spartans  regulated  their  music  according  to  a  strict  sense  of  decorum 
and  moral  values. 


mm 


ATHENS 


211 


their  endeavour  had  caught  the  fancy  of  freedom- 
loving  Athens.^  Their  names  had  become  a  house- 
hold word  to  later  generations :  and  over  the  cups 
there  was  no  song  which  fetched  a  more  rousing 
chorus  than  the  ballad  of  Harmodios  and  Aristo- 
geiton.  The  Spartan  stood  for  a  moment  looking 
at  the  champions  of  Athenian  liberty,  and  as  he 
did  so,  a  careless  slave  swept  round  the  corner ; 
there  was  a  yoke  over  his  shoulders,  such  as  milkmen 
sometimes  carry  nowadays,  and  swinging  at  either 
end  of  it  were  two  brim-full  pails.  Endios  was  not 
used  to  impudence  from  inferiors,  and  expected 
the  fellow  to  behave  like  the  cringing  Helots  in  his 
own  streets  at  Sparta,  and  to  give  him  a  wide  berth. 
So  he  did  not  budge  :  and  when  he  received  a  large 
quantity  of  the  unsavoury  contents  of  the  pail 
upon  the  skirts  of  his  cloak,  his  reflections  upon  the 
glories  of  Democracy  and  benefits  of  Freedom 
were  vigorous  to  a  degree.  True  that.  Spartan-like, 
he  did  not  utter  them  ;  but  if  he  had  I  do  not  doubt 
that  they  would  have  done  credit  to  the  most 
choleric  British  colonel  that  ever  visited  London 
after  a  ten  years'  absence  in  the  East.  Yet  there 
are  those  who  believe  that  Tories  date  from  some- 
where in  the  seventeenth  century. 

If  you  stand,  as  this  indignant  stranger  stood, 
by  the  statues  of  Harmodios  and  Aristogeiton,  there 
is  upon  your  right  hand  a  rocky  path  that  leads  up 
the  slope  of  the  Areopagos  and  so  to  the  entrance 
gates  of  the  Akropolis.  To  your  left  the  road 
descends  abruptly  into  the  market-place,  and  down 
this  the  two  now  turned.     The  market,  or  Agora, 

*  It  would  seem  that,  so  far  from  being  democratic  champions,  they 
were  in  reality  creatures  of  the  Tyrants'  court. 


212 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


was  an  oblong  space  surrounded  by  stately  buildings. 
Two  public  halls,  one  round  and  one  square,  filled 
the  south  side  near  which  he  stood.  The  other 
three  sides  were  framed  by  rows  of  pillars  which 
supported  lofty  and  spacious  colonnades.  Even 
at  this  early  hour  the  market  was  already  full,  and 
the  statues  dotted  here  and  there  about  the  space 
appeared  to  walk  upon  a  veritable  sea  of  heads. 
A  moving  and  restless  sea  it  seemed,  and  stormy 
too,  such  a  constant  roar  of  voices  rose  therefrom. 
Every  one  was  talking  at  once  :  for  no  Athenian 
could  hold  his  tongue  and  yet  be  truly  happy. 
And  coming  there,  as  they  did,  for  many  different 
purposes,  their  talk  was  of  many  things.  Those 
at  the  farther  end  were  shopping :  this  was  a  great 
business,  for  there  was  to  the  Greeks  no  pleasure 
like  that  of  spinning  out  a  bargain  ;  to  cut  it  short 
would  be  a  grievous  shame,  so  that  round  the  stalls 
of  the  '  bazaars '  men  stood  higgling  over  some 
paltry  purchase  till  half  the  morning  had  sped  by. 
'  Obol '  and  '  drachma '  seemed  the  only  words 
current,  and  these  were  bandied  to  and  fro  with 
indefatigable  fury.  Friends  of  the  disputants  stand 
by  to  listen  and  admire,  or  if  they  flagged,  to  egg 
them  on  again  :  others  who  have  business  to  trans- 
act in  the  public  ofiices  near  by,  are  glad  to  be 
amused  during  the  time  of  waiting.  Here  is  a 
pale  young  student,  hanging  round  the  entrance 
to  the  King's  ^  Colonnade.  As  he  waits,  the  young 
man  is  accosted  by  a  squat,  middle-aged  man  with 
a  very  flat  nose,  to  whom  he  eagerly  explains  his 

*  Lest  this  should  seem  an  incongruous  title  to  be  found  in  democratic 
Athens,  let  it  be  said  that  the  office  was  a  survival  of  old  times,  and  the 
official  a  sort  of  pontifical  sheriff,  or  if  you  prefer  it,  a  lay  archbishop. 


ATHENS 


213 


case.  His  father,  so  he  avers,  has  been  keeping 
some  worthless  murderer  in  custody  but  has  allowed 
him  to  die  of  neglect :  this,  good  son  as  he  is,  the 
young  man  cannot  in  conscience  allow  to  pass 
unpunished,  and  feels  himself  bound  to  prosecute 
his  parent  for  homicide.  So  he  waits  and  talks 
outside  the  offices  of  the  king  till  the  doors  are 
opened  and  he  may  file  his  quixotic  and  somewhat 
original  suit. 

There  let  us  leave  him  and  turn  to  the  buildings 
which  line  the  eastern  border  of  the  square.  One 
of  them  is  a  magnificent  and  lengthy  hall,  the  side 
which  faces  us  is  open  to  the  air ;  it  is  full  of  men 
and  wears  the  social  aspect  of  an  eighteenth-century 
pump-room.  Some  are  strolling  idly  about,  or 
standing  to  talk  in  groups,  some  who  are  out  for 
exercise  walk  up  and  down  with  a  more  determined 
manner,  conversing  as  they  go  and  wheeling  with  a 
military  precision  when  they  reach  the  end.  On 
the  stone  benches  sit  elderly  men,  glad  to  escape 
from  the  sun's  heat,  and  above  the  benches  the 
walls  are  covered  with  painted  scenes.  These  are 
of  a  simple  but  grand  design,  quaintly  innocent 
of  the  laws  of  perspective.  Look  at  Kassandra 
among  the  well-greaved  Achaeans,  and  admire 
especially  the  pallor  on  her  cheeks.  Beside  it  is 
another,  a  historical  piece.  In  this  '  battle  at  the 
ships '  the  cicerones  will  point  you  out  Aeschylos 
the  poet,  and  the  famous  Marathon  dog  barking 
at  the  Persians  '  in  their  trews.'  In  front  of  this 
*  Painted    Colonnade,'  ^   as    it    is    called,    stands    a 

I  Being  known  as  the  Stoa  Polkile  {i.f.  the  Painted  Portico)  and  for 
short  Stoa,  it  afterwards  gave  its  name  to  the  Stoic  Philosophers  who 
taught  here. 


214         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


group  of  dandies,  gossiping  round  the  base  of  Solon's 
statue.  Their  jests  and  language  are  such  that,  for 
all  his  imperturbable  demeanour,  I  fancy  the  old 
legislator  is  itching  to  make  a  posthumous  addition 
to  those  laws  of  his,  which  stand  in  the  building 
just  across  the  square.  They  are  carved  upon 
strange  little  pyramids  of  wood,  similar  to  those 
which  hold  the  journals  in  our  public  libraries, 
and  turning  on  a  pivot. 

Towards  this  group  Endios  and  his  guide  were  now 
elbowing  their  way.  But  as  they  approached,  one 
of  the  companions  stood  out  and  began  to  deliver 
an  interminable  harangue,  waving  his  arms  as  he 
did  so  in  an  excited  fashion.  The  Spartan  stood 
by,  at  a  loss  to  know  what  it  all  meant ;  but  by  and 
by  the  speaker  paused  to  drink  a  cup  of  cold  water 
brought  him  by  a  slave,  and  Alkibiades  who  was 
among  the  listeners,  turned  round  and,  catching 
sight  of  his  own  servant,  came  forward  to  welcome 
the  visitor.  '  A  'm  thinkin','  said  the  Spartan 
pensively,  *  what  for  will  yon  callant  be  bletherin' 
a'  the  live-long  day  ?  '  Alkibiades  laughingly  ex- 
plained that  the  speaker  was  a  well-known  professor, 
and  that  he  was  engaged  in  delivering  a  homily 
upon  Love,  a  topic  which  had  formed  the  subject 
of  their  previous  discourse.  *  It 's  a'  aboot  luve  !  ' 
cried  the  Spartan  contemptuously.  *  Aye,  but  it  is 
only  a  daft  souter  wad  be  makin'  sic  lang  shoon  for 
a  short  foot.'  This  remark  was  not  lost  on  the 
rhetorician,  who  had  begun  again,  and  recognising  in 
it  a  broad  hint  to  stop,  he  turned  upon  the  stranger 
and  said  half  in  jest,  '  I  know  that  you  Spartans  set 
much  store  by  silence,  but  we  have  a  saying  here 
that  speech  is  golden.'     '  Then,  stranger,'  was  the 


ATHENS 


215 


curt  reply,  '  if  thou  'It  stop  thy  gab,  thou  'It  no 
fetch  a  boddle.' 

Luckily  at  this  instant  they  were  interrupted. 
A  door  opened  in  that  round  building  of  which  we 
spoke  above — and  which  was  given  by  reason  of  its 
shape  the  nickname  of  the  Parasol— and  out  of  the 
open  door  trooped  fifty  commonplace  little  men 
strutting  along  with  an  air  of  conscious  self-import- 
ance. Their  heads  were  very  much  begarlanded, 
and  their  cloaks  were  exceptionally  clean,  as  indeed 
befitted  the  dignity  of  their  office.  They  were,  in 
short,  the  Prytaneis,  the  standing  committee  of  the 
Council,^  now  upon  their  way  from  the  Rotunda, 
their  official  residence,  to  the  Council  House  next 
door.  They  were  preceded  by  the  chairman  for 
the  day,  who  dangled  somewhat  self-consciously  a 
strange  metal  instrument  which  resembled  a  small 
gridiron,  but  was  in  reality  no  less  a  prize  than  the 
key  of  the  State  treasury.  Their  colleagues,  the  other 
four  hundred  and  fifty  senators,  have  already  entered 
the  Council  Chamber.  The  Session  is  about  to  begin. 

Once  inside,  the  chill  air  of  legal  formality  sits 
somewhat  heavily  on  the  Hvely  spirits  of  the  open- 
air  Athenian.  The  councillors  stand  mutely  round 
while  the  prayers  are  being  made.  The  Clerk 
scratches  his  head  wisely  with  his  little  bronze  stilus, 
waiting  till  he  may  use  it  by  and  by  on  the  black 
wax  of  his  folding  tablet.  Two  trousered  poUce- 
men  hailing  from  the  Balkans  ^  stand  yawning  in 
front  of  the  barrier  ;    while  a  listless  pubUc,  such 

»  The  Council  of  Five  Hundred  was  divided  into  ten  sections  j  each 
of  these  sat  during  a  tenth  part  of  the  year  as  an  executive  committee 
in  permanent  session. 

*  Freedom-loving  Athenians  would  not  undertake  so  undemocratic  a 
function  ;  so  Scythian  foreigners  were  employed  instead  as  policemen. 


2i6         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

snappers-up  of  unconsidered  trifles  as  would  forgo 
the  pleasures  of  the  outer  day,  gossip  immoderately 
behind  it.  Even  when  business  is  well  begun  it 
deals  for  the  most  part  with  dull  details  of  routine  : 
it  is  no  great  matter  to  hear  them  preparing  busi- 
ness for  to-morrow's  Ekklesia.  For  the  Council 
has  little  real  power ;  and  the  Senate  House  is 
merely  the  ante-chamber  to  the  Pnyx  :  the  Council 
may  propose,  it  is  the  People  that  disposes.  To- 
day's topic,  as  it  so  happens,  is  the  exchange  of  the 
Spartan  prisoners  taken  captive  at  Pylos  :  and 
since  that  pessimist  Archeptolemos  is  not  here  to 
wring  his  hands  and  whine  about  this  wicked  war, 
there  is  nobody  present  that  cares  a  rush  for  the 
debate.  The  tedious  business  is  long  since  stale 
to  every  ear,  so  that  not  a  flutter  of  interest  is  per- 
ceptible when  the  word  goes  round  that  Alkibiades 
is  about  to  introduce  a  new  deputy  from  Lake- 
daemon.  Endios  puts  forward  his  proposals.  The 
discussion  drags  wearily  on,  and  the  business  is  less 
than  half  completed  and  the  constables  are  more 
than  half  asleep,  when  an  adjournment  is  proposed. 
No  one  objects ;  the  motion  passes,  and  the  five 
hundred  solemnly  withdraw  to  '  arm  the  inner 
man,'  as  they  say  at  the  banquets. 

At  their  departure  the  audience  melts  away. 
The  trousered  constables  retire  to  their  quarters 
in  the  square.  But  Endios,  following  Alkibiades, 
went  in  the  wake  of  the  Senators ;  for  he  was 
entitled,  in  his  quality  of  foreign  deputy,  to  share 
their  midday  luncheon  which  was  provided  at  the 
Guild  Hall  or  Prytaneion.  Here  they  fed  daily, 
but  the  meal,  to  do  them  justice,  was  a  modest 
affair.     The    Guild    Hall    lay    somewhat    up    the 


ATHENS 


217 


' 


slope  of  the  Akropolis  hill,  and  upon  its  northern 
side,  and  there  they  found  a  large  crowd  already 
gathered.  Many  persons  were  entitled  to  a  meal,  ^ 
being  for  one  cause  or  another  pensioners  of  the 
State.  Here  is  a  young  athlete,  victor  at  last  year's 
Olympic  games ;  there  two  orphans  whose  father 
had  died  gloriously  in  an  attempt  to  rally  the  rout 
at  DeHon  ;  all  had  some  claim,  whether  personal 
or  vicarious,  upon  the  gratitude  of  the  State.^ 
Presently  the  doors  opened,  the  crowd  flocked 
in,  and  the  pantler  was  soon  busy  serving  out  the 
doles.  Coarse  barley  bread  is  the  chief  part  of 
the  day's  ration — wheaten  loaves  are  reserved  for 
festivals.  In  the  evening  there  will  be  a  fuller 
diet  :  large  bowls  of  broth,  coUops,  cakes  and  com- 
fits, garlands  for  the  head,  and  wine.  Now,  how- 
ever, the  fare  was  simple  enough,  and  Endios'  zeal 
at  least  was  soon  done. 

Now  if  there  be  one  thing  more  admirable  than 
another  in  the  habits  of  Athenian  gentlemen,  it  is 
their  constant  zest  and  energy  for  walking.  The 
distance  covered  by  your  man  of  leisure  in  five  days' 
walking  about  town,  would  have  taken  him,  so  it 
was  computed,  half  the  way  to  Olympia.  Even 
the  landowner  of  middle  age  when  he  visited  a 
country  farm  would  send  his  mount  back  home 
without  him,  and  make  the  return  journey  on  foot. 
Often,  as  he  neared  Athens,  he  would  break  into  a 
trot  by  way  of  whetting  his  appetite  for  supper. 
Nor  was  Alkibiades  any  exception  to  this  rule.  So 
when  their  meal  was  done,  noting  how  his  guest 

>  Sokrates,  when  condemned  for  the  new  teaching  he  had  spread  In 
Athens,  claimed  that  he  was  in  reality  a  benefactor  to  the  State,  and 
that  his  proper  recompense  should  be  a  share  in  this  public  meal. 


2i8         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

was  out  of  humour  with  the  town,  he  proposed  a 
turn  outside  the  walls. 

Skirting  the  northern  slope  of  the  Citadel,  they 
headed  for  the  eastern  gate.     The  street  they  tra- 
versed was  like  most  streets  in  Athens,  dark  and 
narrow.     So  narrow  that  the  houses  on  either  side 
could    be   touched    by  stretching   out   the   hands. 
These  houses  were  built  of  mud-brick  baked  in  the 
sun,  covered,  in  some  cases,  with  a  film  of  plaster. 
They  formed  one  continuous  wall,  which  but  for 
the  doorways  was  quite  blank.     No  window  looked 
out  upon  the  street,  except  for  an  occasional  balcony 
projecting  overhead,   and  by  each  door  a  grated 
peep-hole  through  which  the  porters  would  scruti- 
nise   a   visitor    before   admitting  him.     One   door 
stood  open  as  they  passed,  and  through  its  frame 
they  caught  sight  of  a  cool,  pillared  court  and  a 
leafy  vine  rambling  up  the  painted  columns.     An 
aged  housewife  sat  under  its  shade,  spinning  wool 
and  crooning  a  song.     It  looked  so  clean  and  tidy, 
that   after   the  sight  of  it  the  streets   seemed   by 
contrast    doubly   foul.     In   Athens   there   was    no 
regulated  scavenging  :    there  were  no   drains  :    a 
hole  dug  by  the  door  served  as  receptacle  for  un- 
speakable refuse  ;    and  often  the  passers-by  must 
turn  aside  to  avoid  some  carcase  black  with  swarm- 
ing flies.     Happily  the  Greek's  nose  was  dull,  so 
that  all  this  could  not  spoil  the  pleasure  of  his  eyes. 
For  some  streets  in  Athens  were  as  fine  as  others 
were  squalid  ;    and  as  the  two  rounded  the  north- 
east   corner    of   the    Citadel    they  entered   one   of 
these,  splendid  with  monuments   and  shrines  and 
statues^ — not  here  those  uncouth  blocks  of  stone, 
fitted  with  men's  heads,  that  line  every  street  as 


ATHENS 


219 


frequently  as  lamp-posts,  but  in  their  stead  gaily 
tinted  figures  of  Pentelic  marble,  and  bronze 
stools  set  upon  bases  delicately  carved.  The  tripods, 
as  they  were  called,  have  given  the  street  its  name. 
For  often,  when  a  man  had  won  a  prize  of  this  sort 
in  some  dramatic  contest,  he  would  set  it  here  with 
an  inscription  to  commemorate  his  triumph.  Where 
Tripod  Street  passes  outside  the  gates,  there  are 
four  crossways.  And  here  stood  another  monument 
of  a  ruder  sort,  a  simple  cairn  of  large  smooth 
stones.  It  is  sacred  to  Hekate,  goddess  of  the  under- 
world, and  as  the  two  friends  passed  by,  a  super- 
stitious rustic  was  lingering  at  the  pile  ;  he  took 
out  a  flask  of  oil  and  poured  a  humble  offering  on 
the  stones.  They  left  him  there  mumbling  his 
prayers  and  went  on  into  the  fields. 

The  country  beyond  was  pleasant  with  green 
trees.  Tall  poplars  stood  up  in  front  of  them,  and 
at  their  feet  flowed  the  Ilissos  river,  now  dwindled 
to  a  tiny  rivulet,  trickling  down  its  broad  dry  bed 
of  rocks  and  shingle.  Among  the  poplars,  and 
equalling  their  height,  rose  the  gigantic  columns 
of  a  temple  half  in  ruins.  For  eighty  years  or 
more  this  temple  had  stood  unfinished.  For  it 
was  planned  and  half  completed  by  the  Tyrants, 
and,  after  their  fall,  was  left  as  it  stood,  to  point 
the  warning  and  moral  of  their  tale.  Passing 
beneath  its  columns,  the  two  now  joined  the  stream, 
where  it  was  dammed  into  a  wide  shallow,  in  which 
a  group  of  slave-girls  were  rinsing  linen,  and  scrub- 
bing it  clean  on  the  smooth  flat  stones.  Away 
from  the  banks  the  country  was  parched  with 
summer  heat,  a  tract  of  low  brown  hills,  burnt  scrub 
and  yellow  rocks ;   beyond  them  rose  the  blue  mass 


220         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

of  Mount  Hymettos.  The  sun  was  still  high  in  the 
heavens ;  and  the  shade  of  the  poplars  was  more 
pleasant  than  this  arid  waste.  So,  stopping  first  to 
cool  their  feet  in  the  shallows,  the  pair  turned  up 
the  course  of  the  Ilissos,  enjoying  the  dehghtful 
scene.  It  was  the  fairest  spot  near  Athens  ;  the 
margins  were  green  with  oleander,  and  from  the 
spare  grass  peeped  here  and  there  a  head  of  cyclamen 
or  crocus,  or  a  cluster  of  late  anemones  nestling  in 
a  bed  of  thyme.  The  air  all  about  them  was  '  full 
of  summer  scents  and  sounds,  the  blossom  of  agnus 
castus  dropping,'  and  the  throbbing  chirp  of  in- 
numerable cicadae  in  the  grass. 

After  a  few  hundred  paces,  they  struck  off  to 
their  left  hand  and  headed  for  the  steep  sides  of 
Mount  Lykabettos,  and  so  came  presently  into  the 
grounds  of  the  great  training  ground  called  Lykeion. 
Within  the  walls  men  were  at  exercise  of  every  sort. 
In  one  wide  space  a  troop  of  cavalry  were  drilling. 
When  that  was  ended,  there  was  a  match  of  quoits 
to  watch  or  a  wrestling-bout.      So  the  two  men 
whiled  away  the  afternoon,  Endios  staring  and  saying 
Httle,  as  was  his  fashion.     Once  indeed  he  broke  out 
angrily  against  a  boy  who  let  a  slave  untie  his  shoe- 
lace,  'as  though  he  hadna  hands.'     He  had  his 
mock  too  at  Alkibiades  himself.     The  young  man 
had  taken  a  turn  at  quoits,  and  when  he  came  in  all 
hot  and  dusty  to  receive  his  bath,  the  slave  gave 
him  a  warm  douche ;    and  as  he  was  about  to  call 
for  a  second,  Endios  burst  out  impatiently  at  this 
extravagance.     '  Was  he  sae  awfu'  foul  ?  '  ^    Alki- 

»  These  sayings  of  Endios  are  all  attributed  by  Plutarch  to  various 
Spartans.  If  not  strictly  historical,  at  least  they  show  what  Spartans 
thought  of  Athenian  habits,  '^ 


ATHENS 


221 


blades  was  still  laughing  at  his  prejudice  against 
warm  water,  when  evening  began  to  fall,  and  they 
both  turned  home  for  dinner. 

The  sun  set  in  a  clear  and  radiant  sky ;  from 
where  they  were,  they  could  see  Salamis,  a  line  of 
purple  hills  floating  in  a  sea  of  gold.  The  sun 
dropped  with  a  rush  behind  the  pine-groves  of 
Aigaleos ;  and  it  was  dusk.  Endios  watched  it  go, 
and  thought  in  his  heart  how  over  that  hill  the 
road  to  Sparta  lay  :  and  I  make  no  doubt  whatever 
that,  like  another  sturdy  patriot  of  another  country, 
he  thought  that  particular  view  the  finest  in  all 
the  land.  Better  than  all  the  wonders  of  Athens 
would  be  a  sight  of  Taygetos  once  again.  And 
before  next  day  dawned,  Endios  was  out  upon  that 
road,  shaking  the  dust  of  Attica  indignantly  from 
his  feet. 

When  he  was  back  again  in  Sparta,  his  friends 
were  curious  to  hear  about  his  journey.  What 
manner  of  city,  they  would  ask,  had  he  seen  beyond 
the  hills  ?  Then  weighing  well  his  words,  he  would 
answer  with  a  wise  air  and  ambiguously,  as  an  oracle, 
'  In  yon  toon,  I  wot,  ilka  mortal  thing  is  dacent.' 
They  might  make  of  his  meaning  what  they  pleased, 
but  not  for  the  kings  and  all  their  council  would  he 
add  another  word. 

Alkibiades  meanwhile  thought  little  enough  of 
his  guest's  abrupt  departure,  setting  it  down  to 
the  inscrutable  workings  of  the  Spartan  mind.  But 
the  truth  was  that  Endios  was  deeply  incensed  by 
the  young  man's  arrogant  behaviour.  And,  when 
next  he  comes  to  Athens  to  treat  about  the  prisoners, 
he  forsook  the  usual  course  of  international  eti- 


222         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

quette,  and  employed  as  official  go-between, ^  not 
Alkibiades  as  heretofore,  but  the  man  who  was 
Sparta's  best  friend  but  Alkibiades'  enemy,  the 
General  Nikias. 

»  Alkibiades  served  as  Sparta's  consul  (or  *  proxenos/  as  he  was  called) 
at  Athens.  It  was  customary  for  a  Greek  city  to  select  some  friendly 
native  in  each  foreign  state  who  should  look  after  the  interests  of  her 
own  citizens  residing  there. 


THE  PROPYLAEA 

The  west  front  of  the  Akropolis  is  entirely  masked  by 
the  Propylaea,  with  its  two  massive  wings  and  its  pillared 
central  porch,  above  the  gable  of  which  may  be  seen  the 
colossal  bronze  statue  of  Athena. 

The  projecting  bastion  upon  the  right  holds  the  little 
Ionic  temple  of  the  Wingless  Victory.  Behind  is  the 
Parthenon  which,  according  to  strict  perspective,  should 
be  somewhat  farther  to  the  right.  The  distance  between 
it  and  the  Propylaea  is  about  one  hundred  yards.  The 
Panathenaic  Procession  is  winding  up  the  zigzag  approach 
to  the  great  porch.  The  steps  leading  downwards  to  the 
left  descend  by  a  steep  slope  to  the  market-place.  The 
roofs  of  Athens  are  seen  below,  and  beyond  them  rises 
Mount  Lykabettos. 


O 


XVII.  PANATHENAEA 

*He  beheld  the  city  flill  of  idols.' 

The  Calendar-maker,  that  misguided  man,  was 
never  so  ill-inspired  as  when  he  fixed  for  us  our 
New  Year's  Day.  This  arbitrary  appointment  of 
his,  too  late  to  be  appropriately  connected  with 
the  close  of  autumn,  too  early  for  the  coming  of 
spring,  has  no  visible  link  with  the  annual  revolu- 
tion of  men's  natural  labours.  It  has  in  it  neither 
intelligent  logic  nor  poetic  fitness.  The  Greeks 
went  differently  to  work,  and  being  in  these  matters 
still  nature's  priests,  they  contrived  things  better, 
choosing  for  their  New  Year's  tide  that  pause 
which  comes  immediately  before  the  harvest,^  at 
just  that  moment  in  the  height  of  summer  when  the 
labours  of  preparation  are  over;  and  the  labourer, 
having  bid  farewell  to  the  Old  Year,  may  fairly 
promise  himself  to  reap  the  fruit  of  his  toil,  drinking 
of  his  wine,  and  eating  of  his  fig-tree,  at  the  advent 
of  the  New. 

Upon  this  lull  or  brief  period  of  respite  the 
people  of  Attica  seized  naturally  enough,  to  cele- 
brate what  was  for  them  a  yet  more  significant 
anniversary.      They  reserved   for  this   season   the 

*  True  the  com  harvest  was  reaped  a  little  earlier  in  the  year,  but 
this  was  in  Attica  at  least  a  matter  of  minor  importance.     Com  came 
for  the  most  part  from  abroad.     The  Panathenaea  was  celebrated  at  the 
end  of  Hekatombeion,  roughly  our  July. 
2M 


PANATHENAEA 


225 


chief  festival,  the  Name  Day  of  their  City — the 
famous  Panathenaea. 

Nor  was  this  a  mere  holiday  of  one  summer 
afternoon.  On  such  high  occasions,  the  pagan 
world,  being  innocent  of  the  regularities  of  a  weekly 
rest  and  a  recurring  Sabbath,  compensated  itself  by 
a  whole  week,  as  it  were,  of  accumulated  Sundays. 
For  nine  successive  days,  towards  the  close  of  their 
first  month,  the  entire  town  kept  holiday  and  made 
merry  to  the  honour  of  Athena.  Her  glorification 
was,  for  that  matter,  a  glorification  of  Athens  too, 
town  and  goddess  being  mergfed  for  them  in  a  close 
identity.  No  town  perhaps,  except  Jerusalem, 
was  ever  loved  with  so  vehement  a  pride,  and 
whereas  the  religion  of  the  Hebrews,  by  the  mouth 
of  its  preachers  and  prophets,  strove  to  curb  a 
worldly  patriotism  and  to  humble  an  undue  pride 
of  country,  the  worship  of  Athena  was  designed 
rather  to  uplift  her  people's  hearts  towards  a  supreme 
conviction  of  their  own  miraculous  and  momentous 
importance. 

Every  fourth  year  the  Panathenaea  assumed  a 
magnified  significance.  It  ceased  then  to  be  a 
merely  local  or  municipal  celebration  ;  it  became 
Irnperial.  Delegates  from  the  colonies  and  Island 
allies  flocked  across  the  Aegean  to  pay  their  duties 
to  the  mother  city  and  sacrifice  two  sheep  and  a 
cow  to  the  common  divinity  of  all  true  Ionian  folk. 
Visitors  too  from  every  corner  of  the  mainland  were 
present  to  witness  the  spectacle  or  to  enter  for  the 
Games.  They  called  it,  by  a  simple  addition,  the 
Great  Panathenaea. 

It  happened  in  a  certain  year  which  followed 
close  upon  the  patching  up  of  a  peace  with  Sparta, 


226         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

and  in  which  Alkibiades  was  at  the  high  pitch  of  his 
popularity,  that  the  Great  Panathenaea  fell  to  be 
observed.  Never  perhaps  had  there  been  promise 
of  a  pomp  more  splendid,  and  never  certainly  had 
spirits  run  more  high.  Herself  too,  Athens  stood, 
as  it  were,  at  the  midsummer  of  her  splendour, 
though  the  decline  of  autumn  was  for  her  likewise 
only  too  near  at  hand ;  and  with  fruit  bitter 
enough — Syracuse,  Dekelea,  and  in  swift  culmination 
Aigospotami  and  the  Conqueror  within  her  gates ; 
all  this  was  to  come  within  how  short  a  space,  and 
all  this  was  now  how  distant  from  her  fancy,  as 
she  kept  the  feast  with  a  tragic,  but  magnificent 
bravado  ! 

All  the  open-air  peoples  of  the  South  have  a 
passion  for  processions.  In  Italy  it  will  be  a  poor 
hamlet  indeed  that  does  not  produce  once  at  least 
in  the  year  some  worn  old  grimy  image,  and  per- 
ambulate the  streets  with  chanting  and  copes  and 
candles.  So  in  their  Panathenaea  the  Procession 
was  the  most  considered  part  of  the  ceremony. 
It  was  the  crowning  function  of  the  festival ;  but 
by  way  of  prologue  there  came  seven  days  of  games. 
These  began  with  certain  trials  of  skill  between 
flutists,  harpists,  and  the  whole  tribe  of  makers  of 
music — under  which  head  were  included  those 
grand  reciters  (I  had  almost  said  actors)  of  the 
Homeric  legend  to  whom  they  gave  the  name  of 
Rhapsodists.  Homer  read  and  Homer  recited  are 
two  very  different  matters.^  In  the  old  days  poetry 
was  still  a  living  thing,  and  the  enjoyment  of  it  a 

1  Of  this  fact,  if  there  be  any  doubt,  it  will  be  enough  to  invite  the 
local  scholar  in  any  district  of  the  Morea  to  recite  in  the  racy  intonation 
of  his  modem  dialect  a  passage  from  the  Odyssey. 


PANATHENAEA 


227 


real  and  popular  emotion.  Homer  had  not  then 
become  a  business  of  the  folio  and  the  fireside,  and 
they  would  listen  to  the  Rhapsodist  as  men  listen 
to  a  play,  and  the  story  warmed  their  hearts  like 
wine,  as  they  sat  there  drinking  it  in.  Choosing 
for  recital  some  great  episode  from  the  Homeric 
saga,  he  would  roll  forth  the  verses  with  such 
vehemence  of  emotion,  such  apt  accompaniment  of 
dramatic  gesture,  that  the  old  legend  seemed  there 
and  then  to  spring  into  life  under  the  magic  of  his 
art.  He  would  tell  (till  you  might  fancy  Odysseus 
himself  the  speaker)  of  that  hero's  coming  to  the 
Cyclops'  cave,  of  his  strange  reception  there,  of  the 
cannibal  feast,  and,  finally,  of  the  ruse  whereby  he 
planned  his  grim  revenge  and  ultimate  escape  : 

*  Then  up  and  spake  I,  nothing  loath 

At  Cyclops'  side  to  stand, 
The  dark,  dark  wine  in  the  ivy-cup. 
And  the  cup  in  my  two  hands. 


"  /  prithee  drink.  Sir  Cyclops, 
Of  man's  meat  thy  tvame  is  full. 

But  ^twere  good  to  see  what  this  liquor  may  be 
T>oth  line  our  good  ship's  hull. 

For  thee  have  I  filled  and  fetched  this  stoup^ 
That  thine  heart  may  yet  know  pity. 

And  thou,  for  all  thine  utter  wrath, 
Mayst  send  me  to  my  city. 

Hard,  hard  of  heart,  in  time  to  come 

What  mariner  may  he 
Shall  sail  to  thee  from  the  world  of  man 

Who  hast  dealt  so  wrongfully  ?  " 

At  this  my  word  he  hath  taken  the  cup, 
He  hath  taken  the  cup  and  quafF'd, 

Full  fain  hath  he  been  of  the  sweet  wine, 
For  he  calleth  a  second  draught. 


228 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


« 


r)) 


Birle  out,  birle  out,  nor  stint  nor  stay. 
And  tell  me  straight  thy  name^ 
So  I  may  give  thee  for  thy  pleasure 
Such  boon  as  a  guest  may  claim, 

0  rare,  rare  is  the  wine,  I  trow. 
When  the  rain  of  God  gars  the  red  grape  grow 

In  the  field  of  a  Cyclop  lord. 
But  this  is  a  sup  from  Zeus  his  cup. 
And  a  bite  from  Zeus  his  board  V 

A  second  time  I  birled  the  wine  ; 

And  dark  it  gleamed  at  the  brim. 
Yea,  thrice  I  took  and  I  served  him  thrice. 
And  thrice  he  drank  in  his  heedlessness ; 

But  it  stole  the  wits  from  him. 

1  spake  him  soft,  I  spoke  him  fair. 

"  Wouldst  karn  my  doughty  name  ? 
An  I  tell  thee  sooth,  tvilt  keep  thy  troth 
With  such  boon  as  a  guest  may  claim  ? 

By  his  own  proper  name  they  call 

Each  mortal  born  of  woman. 
Both  father  and  mother,  and  comrades  all. 

And  mine  have  called  me  noman." 

Yet  cruelly  he  answered  me, 
"  }^ow  when  I  have  eaten  the  lave 

On  NOMAN  last  will  I  break  my  fast ; 
And  that  is  the  boon  I  give." 

He  laid  him  back,  he  laid  him  down. 

He  laid  him  along  the  floor. 
And  sleep  it  took  him  prisoner 

In  the  grip  of  its  sovran  power. 

His  lusty  swyre  was  thrown  away  ; 

His  queasy  paunch  did  puke. 
Till  bloody  gobbet  and  gouts  of  wine 

His  thrapple  gan  to  choke. 

Then  I  thrust  the  brand  in  the  embcr-hcap, 

So  it  wax^d  hot  the  while, 
And  checrly  I  spake  to  my  merry  men  all 

That  none  should  quake  nor  qutil. 


PANATHENAEA 

Slow  to  burn  was  the  green  olive-brand, 

But  or  ever  it  caught  the  lowc, 
I  took  and  plucked  it  from  the  fire  ; 

All  grimly  did  it  glow. 

Then  into  our  heart  God  breathed  might. 

My  merry  men  stood  by, 
And  all  set  hand  to  the  burning  brand, 

And  drave  it  into  his  e'e. 

Then  I  gat  me  abune  to  tirl  it  round, 

I  tirled  it  with  a  will, 
As  he  who  into  a  good  ship's  board 

Doth  featly  tirl  the  drill. 

Below  the  haft  with  a  twisted  thong. 

Men  yerk  it  to  and  fro. 
They  hale  to  right,  they  hale  to  left. 

But  aye  the  spit  runs  true; 
E'en  so  in  his  c'e  we  tirled  the  tree 

And  drave  the  hot  point  through. 

Then  O  to  sec  the  red  blood  run 

About  the  red-hot  stake, 
To  see  his  e'cbrow  roosed  wi*  flame. 

His  e'elid  seared  and  black. 
And  O  beneath  the  burning  ball 

To  hear  the  e*eroots  crack. 

Shrilly,  I  trow,  doth  the  axehead  sing 

That  water  cold  hath  kisst. 
When  a  smith  doth  keel  the  tempered  steel 

('Tis  the  mettle  of  steel,  I  wis), 
But  shriller  far  beneath  the  bar. 

The  e*e  of  the  Cyclops  hisst, 

Then  a  waeful  groan  did  Cyclops  groan, 

And  an  eldritch  thing  to  hear. 
With  the  hollow  groan  the  rocks  made  moan, 

But  we  shrunk  by  in  fear. 

The  brand  all  bolter'd  thick  wi'  blood, 

He  pluckt  it  out  of  his  e'e  ; 
And  syne  he  flung  it  from  his  hand, 

So  wud  with  dulc  was  he. 


229 


230         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

Then  long  and  loud  did  Cyclops  call, 
Hailing  his  feres  that  round  him  dwell 

On  the  cliiFs  where  the  high  winds  blow. 
And  cast  and  west,  and  north  and  south 
From  their  dens  they  came  to  the  cavern  mouth, 

To  learn  what  ail^d  him  so. 

**  O  Polyp  heme  r  quoth  they  to  him, 

*'  What  bitter  duU  dost  dree. 
So  sair  to  chide,  in  the  soft  night-tide. 

And  banish  our  sleep  away  ? 

God  send  there  be  none  who  in  thy  despite. 

Thy  sheep/old  plundereth, 
Ne  yet  by  subtlety,  ne  by  might 

Thyself  would  do  to  death" 

Then  from  his  den  the  wighty  man. 

To  his  feres  thus  answercth : 
•*  NoMAN  by  subtlety,  ne  by  might 

Myself  would  do  to  death." 

Lightly,  lightly  they  answer'd  back, 

•*  Sith  no  man  doth  thee  scathe. 
Thy  sair  pain  thou  must  thole  zlone. 
Since  none  may  mend  what  Zeus  hath  done, 
Yet  pray  thy  sire  to  save  his  son. 

If  the  Ocean-lord  can  save." 

Thus  answer'd  they,  and  went  their  way. 

And  my  soul  with  laughter  fill' d, 
By  my  false  name  and  brave  device, 

To  see  him  so  beguiled.*^ 

When  this  episode  was  finished,  another  reciter 
would  take  up  the  tale  ;  and  the  audience  would 
hear  perhaps  for  the  twentieth  time  (like  the  lessons 
in  Church)  the  story  of  Odysseus'  home-coming;  how 
he  passed  safely  the  perils  of  Skylla  and  Charybdis, 
the  blandishments  of  Syren  maidens  and  the  en- 

1  If  there  is  some  mixture  of  dialects  here,  so  is  there  in  Homer. 


PANATHENAEA 


231 


chanted  island  of  the  witch  Circe,  till  voyaging 
home  to  Ithaka  at  last,  he  found  his  palace  and  his 
wife  beset  by  the  band  of  '  overweening  suitors.' 
Then  came  the  climax — and  what  suspense  the 
listeners  would  endure,  as  the  hero  entered  his 
own  halls  in  the  trappings  of  a  beggar.  How  they 
would  wince  as  the  ox-foot,  flung  by  some  cowardly 
suitor,  went  hurtling  past  his  head.  And  finally 
what  a  shudder  would  run  round  the  ranks  at  the 
*  apparition  of  Odysseus,  leaping  forth  upon  the 
floor  and  casting  his  arrows  at  his  feet.'  The  man 
on  the  stage  too  felt  the  story  at  its  full  strength, 
his  heart  throbbing,  his  hair  erect,  and  the  sweat 
gathering  on  his  brow  :  and  '  as  he  went  over  some 
tremendous  passage  there  would  come  upon  him 
the  spirit  of  the  ancient  men  and  a  voice  as  of  Homer 
himself,'  till  at  the  sound  of  that  voice  the  whole 
audience  was  seized  and  elevated  by  the  uncontrol- 
lable passion  of  the  Hnes.  This  lasted  till  nightfall, 
and  the  morning  after,  by  a  curious  contrast,  the 
same  crowd  would  be  cheering  with  equal  energy 
the  efforts  of  the  naked  runners  at  Echelidai  down 
by  Phaleron  beach.     Incomparable  Athenians ! 

At  this  spot,  upon  successive  days,  the  whole 
athletic  programme  (on  the  model  of  the  Olympic 
festival)  had  to  be  gone  through.  Horse-races 
followed,  and  then  by  a  pleasant  rustic  touch  a 
competition  was  provided  for  good  looks.  All  the 
prizes,  with  something  of  the  same  simplicity,  were 
paid  in  kind.  Each  winner  received  jars  of  olive- 
oil  to  a  stated  number.  The  olive  was,  according  to 
tradition,  Athena's  special  gift  to  her  people,  and 
as  the  oil  stood  them  instead  of  soap,  butter,  and 
many  other  valuable  commodities,  the  prize  was 


232         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

designedly  useful.  The  jars  were  ornamental  into 
the  bargain,  one,  at  least,  of  them  being  painted 
in  the  old-fashioned  black  silhouette,  with  Athena's 
figure  on  one  side,  bull-eyed  and  belligerent,  on  the 
other  a  scene  of  wresthng,  boxing,  or  what  not, 
according  to  the  nature  of  the  prize.  The  jars, 
moreover,  were  immense,  and  a  successful  athlete 
must  have  needed  a  capacious  cellar. 

The  eve  of  the  Procession  was  spent  in  further 
contests  :  rival  companies  of  men  danced  in  a  ring ; 
teams  of  youths  ran  torch-races  in  the  gathering 
dusk.  Far  into  the  night  the  whole  town  kept 
vigil  and  observed  a  solemn  feast,  only  to  troop  out 
the  more  happily  and  gaily  on  the  morrow,  shiny 
and  scented,  in  their  holiday  clothes.  Every  one 
had  some  part  to  play,  even  if  it  was  merely  as 
spectator,  in  the  Great  Progress  up  the  Burg.^ 

The  marshalling  of  the  Procession  takes  place  at 
dawn  in  the  old  Potters'  Quarter  outside  the  walls. 
Hither  has  been  brought  a  monster  ship  which 
glided  upon  rollers.  There  has  been  much  ado 
piloting  it  from  its  permanent  home  on  the  slopes 
of  the  Akropolis.2  And  when  at  length  it  is  in 
station,  the  sacred  mantle  or  Peplos  is  hung  from 
the  yard-arm  at  its  mast.  This  mantle  is  the 
special  gift  destined  for  the  goddess,  and  is  woven 
of  wool,  dyed  a  deep  saffron  and  emblazoned  at 
the  hem  with  a  frieze  depicting  in  bright  colours 
Athena's  warfare  against  the  giants.     With  the  great 

*  The  Athenian  name  for  the  Akropolis  was  the  Polls  (  =  town  or 
burg).  In  early  days  the  Citadel  ivas  the  City.  Compare  the  survival 
of  the  term  *  City '  for  that  part  of  London  which  originally  bore  the 
name. 

*  One  is  reminded  of  the  progress  of  the  Bullock  Cart  so  eagerly 
attended  by  Florentines  on  Good  Friday  morning. 


PANATHENAEA 


233 


ship  at  its  head  the  Procession  makes  for  the  market- 
place, where   sacrifice   is   offered,  and   the   cavalry 
performs  some  preliminary  evolutions  to  the  great 
consternation  of  the  ladies.     When  the  escort  have 
at  last  wheeled  into  place,  the  ship  again  moves 
on,  lurching  and  rumbling  on  the  rollers,  the  Peplos 
waving  and  jerking  at  its  mast.     It  sails  first  under 
the  lee  of  the  Areopagos,  and  then  passes  up  the 
hollow  that  lies  between  this  knoll  and  that  of  the 
Pnyx.     The  clumsy  hulk  towers  above  the  mean 
houses  of  the  narrow  street,  and  presently  emerges 
at  the  foot  of  the  Akropolis  slope  and,  swinging 
round  upon  the  left  hand,  begins  to  mount  towards 
the  great  rock  above.     Across  the  western  front 
spreads  the  wide  Portico,   massive   as  a  fortress; 
its  two  wings  lie  like  guardian  watch-dogs  of  the 
hill,  and  by  their  side  is  perched  the  dainty  little 
temple  of  the  Wingless  Victory,  thrust  forward  on 
a  jutting  promontory  of  rock,  and  squatting  there 
like  Impudence  at  the  side  of  marble  Dignity.  ^  As 
the  Procession  passes  below  this  bastion,  the  gradient 
becomes  more  decisive,  and  the  ship  must  be  left 
behind.     The  drive   zigzags    steeply  towards  the 
great  gates,  and  up  it  the  train  goes  winding  back 
and  forth,  dragging  out  its  vast  length  like  some 
huge  unwieldy  serpent. 

Processions  are  to  us  Northerners  a  foreign  and 
uncongenial  ceremony,  and  to  walk  well  in  proces- 
sion is  an  art  long  lost  to  England.  The  Athenians 
rejoiced  in  that  art,  and  were  masters  of  it ;  in  no 
way  self-conscious,  still  less  mechanical  Hke  the 
drilled  supers  in  a  tragedy,  they  carried  it  off  with 
a  certain  ease  and  informaUty,  not  afraid  to  give  a 
word  to  a  neighbour,  a  nod  to  the  crowd,  and  yet 


234        THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

wearing  throughout  an  air  of  grave  preoccupation, 
like  children  intent  upon  some  game  of  make- 
believe.  This  gravity  was  most  to  be  remarked 
at  the  head  of  the  Procession,  where  the  sacred 
Peplos  moved  under  the  jealous  eye  of  priestly 
greybeards,  clad  in  spotless  robes  hke  a  surpliced 
choir.  In  the  wake  of  the  Peplos  followed  a  train 
of  girls,  dressed  also  in  robes  of  white  long  enough 
to  be  passed  over  the  forehead  and  still  fall  in 
straight  folds  about  their  feet.  The  four  leaders 
carry  nothing  in  their  hands.  They  are  the  weavers 
of  the  Peplos.  The  rest  walk  two  by  two,  bearing 
this  pair  a  censer,  that  a  wine  flagon,  and  a  third 
baskets  of  scents  or  sweetmeats  that  fill  the  air  with 
heavy  fragrance.  It  is  the  proudest  moment  in 
the  girl's  whole  hfe,  and,  though  half  abashed  at 
such  pubhcity,  she  walks  with  a  conscious  pride  in 
her  great  privilege,  demure  and  stately  as  the 
figure  on  a  monument,  her  eyes  fastened  on  the 
ground. 

The  girls  are  no  sooner  well  within  the  gates 
when  there  follow  at  their  heels  a  string  of  sleek 
white  bulls,  tugging  impetuously  at  the  cords 
bound  about  to  their  gilded  horns,  as  eager  as  though 
they  were  aware  of  the  honour  to  be  done  them 
and  impatient  to  be  killed.  Two  youths  are  told 
off  to  each  ;  and  the  more  they  pull  and  struggle 
with  their  charges,  the  more  do  the  beasts  plunge 
and  bellow,  to  the  great  confusion  of  the  band  of 
pipers  and  minstrels  that  follow  in  their  rear. 
These  in  their  turn  are  succeeded  by  a  train  of 
Outlanders,  or  foreign  residents,  shouldering  great 
trays  of  sacred  cakes ;  their  scarlet  cloaks  lend  a 
dash  of  colour  in  the  general  white.     Their  wives 


PANATHENAEA 


235 


by  an  odd  privilege  are  there  also,  bearing  sacred 

parasols.  .  - 

After  them  come  boys,  some  with  stools,  some 
with  great  earthen  pitchers;  then  staid  old  bur- 
ghers, solemn  as  apostles,  with  branches  of  ohve 
in  their  hands.  Next  a  corps  of  charioteers  with  a 
marshal  at  their  head.  It  is  the  picturesque  that 
tells  in  a  pageant  :  for  military  purposes,  chariots 
are  as  antiquated  as  are  Beef-eaters  to-day.  Each 
is  drawn  by  four  horses  and  carries  a  warrior  in  full 
panoply,  and  beside  him  a  groom  whose  long  robe 
sweeps  the  floor. 

Close  behind  them  come  the  cavalry,  corps  after 
corps,  in  a  continuous  and  turbulent  stream.     Their 
mounts  are  unbroken,  obstreperous  creatures,  very 
deep  in  the  neck  and  all  the  while  spoihng  for 
a  gallop,  so  that  more  than  half  the  time  they  are 
reined  in  upon  their  haunches.     As  for  the  riders, 
they  sit  them  without  stirrup  or  saddle,  as  easily 
as  a  sea-bird  rides  the  stormy  waters,  and  imper- 
turbably  erect.     They  are  a  fine  sight  for  the  eyes 
to  ioUow,  with  the  sun  flickering  on  the  golden 
bits  and  their  cloaks  tossing  with  the  violent  com- 
motions of  their  steeds ;  they  also  pass  out  of  sight 
under  the  Portico,  and  on  the  farther  side  their 
noisy  clatter  bursts  in  upon  the  silent  level  before  the 
Temple  front.     By  what  right,  one  wonders,  does 
this  boisterous  cavalcade  invade  that  sacred  precinct. 
Yet  upon  the  friezes  of  that  Temple  are  they  not 
prancing  in  immortal  marble  yet  ? 

There  are  some  works  of  man  upon  the  first  vision 
of  vi^hich  the  spectator  is,  in  a  literal  sense,  staggered  ; 
it  is  as  though  something  immeasurably  grand  and 


236        THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

dazzling  had  risen  from  the  ground  and  struck  him 
in  full  face.  Such  is  the  vision  of  the  Parthenon, 
even  to-day,  and  if  it  is  still  so  in  its  age  and  its 
decay,  what  must  it  not  once  have  been  on  the 
first  morrow  of  its  completion  ? 

There  is  a  pecuHar  fascination  in  this  attempt  to 
pry  into  the  past,  and  to  conjure  before  our  minds 
the   outward   appearance   of   antiquity.     There   is 
no  peep  into  the  future  that  could  be  compared, 
for  pleasure  or  for  interest,  against  a  walk  behind 
Pepys  down  Whitehall,  or  a  rendezvous  with  Cicero 
on  the  Palatine.     Here  a  clever  painter  might  per- 
haps render  us  some  aid.     Research  can  do  much, 
and  imagination  more.     But  there  are  some  scenes 
that   baffle  us  still.      If  we  could  call  upon  the 
screen  a  picture  of  the  Parthenon,  as  it  stood  in  the 
first  bloom  of  its  perfection,  we  are  in  this  way 
utterly  at  fault.     We  can,  it  is  true,  doctor  the 
dilapidated  ruin  of  it,  and,  by  the  eye  of  faith, 
piece  the  fabric  together  bit  by  bit,  mending  that 
skeleton  of  a  facade,  and  patching  the  gaps  in  the 
forest  of  its  pillars.     But  how  can  these  dry  bones 
Hve  without  the  hot  bright  breath  of  the  sun  upon 
them,  glancing  down  between  the  columns  as  down 
an  avenue  of  trees  and  by  a  play  of  variety  tricking 
the  eye  into  an  imagined  lightening  of  their  pon- 
derous weight,  and  a  softening  of  their  stiff  mono- 
tony ?     Without  the  brilliant  Attic  air  to  work  this 
transformation,  our  mental  image  is  as  unreal  and 
vacuous  as  is  a  cheap  print  after  some  masterpiece 
of  Titian. 

Or  what  again  of  the  colours  ?  Can  our  dull 
Northern  eyes  conceive  this  mellow  ruin,  blazing 
out  as  it  once  did,  with  blues  and  crimson,  with 


PANATHENAEA 


237 


i 


greens  and  purples  and  gold,  a  rainbow  set  against 
a  ground  of  winter  snow  ?     Can  we  imagine  its 
now  ragged  outlines  as  whole  once  more,  each  of 
them  as  firm  as  porcelain,  and  in  every  carven  de- 
tail as  delicate  ?     Granted  that  imagination  might 
heal  the  ravages  that  have  been  wrought,  in  turn, 
by  Time,  explosives,  and  the  archaeologist,  yet  our 
modern  mind,  trained  to  admire  the  grand  disorder 
of  York  or  Winchester,  can  scarcely  grasp,  much 
less  visualise,  such  unity  of  plan  wrought  out  in 
such   infinity    of    detail;     we    cannot    follow   the 
master-mind  that  took  count  of  all,  nor  even  left 
to  chance  the  imperceptible  convexity  given  here 
to  the  temple  step,  or  the  premeditated  curve  of 
some   fluttering   skirt   up   there   among  the  gable 
groups.     We  know  nothing  of  a  workmanship  like 
this,  infallible,  both  in  the  handling  of  the  sculptor's 
chisel,  and  the  humbler  tool  of  the  mason.     Plato 
(had  he  been  less  Philistine  a  critic)  would  fitly  have 
praised  the  mathematical  precision  of  its  propor- 
tions, and  found  some  mystic  significance  in  their 
planned  ratio.     He  would  then,  we  may  be  sure, 
have  added  the  art  of  building  to  arts  of  astronomy 
and  cubic  geometry,  and  all  other  studies  which 
he  held  to  be  essential  to  the  attainment  of  true 
knov/ledge.     Better  still,  he  might  have  left  us  yet 
another  of  his  great  allegories  and  told  how  the 
spirit  of  Athena  herself  had  conquered  the  brute 
matter  of  the  stones  and  passed  into  the  very  archi- 
tecture  of  her   house.     Nor   is   this   mere   empty 
fancy.      For  while  other    buildings    age  with  the 
passage  of  the  centuries,  yet  over  the  Temple  of  the 
Maiden   there   broods   still  (much   as   it   too   has 
sufiered)  a  freshness  as  of  youth.    Its  frowning  brow 


238 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


PANATHENAEA 


239 


I 

) 


has  caught,  like  the  brow  of  the  goddess,  the  in- 
scrutable and  ageless  beauty  of  the  Sphinx.  Its 
ruin,  like  her  name  and  memory,  is  now  as  a  ghost 
strayed  out  of  the  past,  a  derelict  on  the  drifts  of 
time.  Yet  never  did  a  ruin  call  for  our  pity  less. 
For  it  remains,  like  her,  proud  and  unbending, 
scornful,  as  it  were,  of  man's  small  passions  and  aloof 
from  the  havoc  and  pathos  of  life.  Our  fallen 
minsters  or  ruined  castles  have  each  their  individual 
character  and  human  tale,  for  the  spirit  of  their 
builders  has  passed  into  these  friendly  stones.  But 
the  Parthenon  has  no  history ;  in  those  Greek 
marbles  there  is  a  cold  perfection  which  seems  like 
the  goddess  herself,  impersonal,  and  more  than 
human,  and  yet  for  that  very  reason  (shall  we  say  ?) 
less  than  divine.  There  is  more  to  touch  man  that 
way  in  the  darkened  and  vaulted  chancel  of  the 
humblest  roadside  church.^ 

Within  the  gates  a  spacious  way  runs  along  the 
heart  of  the  citadel,  dividing  equally  its  broad  and 
level  top.  Upon  the  right  or  southern  side  of  this 
way  (and  so  not  quite  centrally),  where  a  swell  in 
the  natural  surface  of  rock  has  given  to  the  builder 
a  master-station  for  his  edifice,  the  Great  Temple 
rises.  On  either  hand  the  approach  is  lined  with 
statuary  ;  indeed  the  whole  precinct  teems  like  the 
field  of  dragon's  teeth,  with  a  prodigious  company 
of  figures,  statues  in  stone,  in  bronze,  and  in 
marble,  set  singly  or  in  groups,  massed  in  an  un- 

1  After  this  it  would  seem  a  trifle  imprudent  to  attempt  a  reconstruc- 
tion in  monochrome  of  the  Parthenon.  Pausanias,  in  describing  the 
scaly  texture  of  Athena's  aegis,  remarks  that  those  who  have  not  seen  a 
dragon  have  at  any  rate  seen  a  fir-cone.  Sometimes  we  must  put  up 
with  a  fir-cone. 


h 


premeditated  scheme  of  orderly  disorder.  Here 
sailors  and  soldiers,  statesmen  and  poets  stand  side 
by  side  with  gods  and  legendary  heroes.  Here  is, 
so  to  say,  an  epitome,  in  stone,  of  all  Attic  history 
and  Greek  mythology.  Yonder  stands  Theseus, 
Samson-like,  strangHng  his  lion.  There  Athens 
challenges  Poseidon  for  possession  of  the  soil ;  and 
there  agaki  she  is  flinging  the  flutes,  in  contempt, 
at  Marsyas'  feet.  There  are  a  score  of  such  legen- 
dary scenes,  which  have  come  to  be,  as  it  were,  the 
People's  Bible,  colouring  their  beHefs  and  forming 
no  small  part  of  their  mental  furniture ;  they  are 
the  companions  and  familiar  symbols  of  the  nation's 
daily  life,  moulded  in  miniature  upon  its  coins, 
and  traced  even  upon  the  patterned  surfaces  of  its 
domestic  crockery. 

Nor  are  there  wanting  the  more  modest  tributes 
of  private  piety  or  affection.  Here  Pheidias  set  up 
a  thankoffering  for  his  favourite  slave  who  fell 
from  a  roof-top,  but  by  a  miracle  escaped  with  his 
life  :  the  fellow  is  seen  crouching  on  his  haunches 
and  blowing  upon  the  embers  of  an  imaginary  fire. 
At  no  great  distance  stands  Leaina's  monument,  a 
lioness  cast  in  bronze,  not  without  passing  allusion 
to  her  leonine  fideUty :  for,  being  mistress  to  the  man 
who  killed  the  Tyrant,  she  refused  even  under  torture 
to  compromise  her  lover  by  a  word  of  evidence,  and 
in  token  of  her  heroic  silence,  the  artist,  so  they  say, 
has  cut  the  tongue  from  the  animal's  mouth. 

The  marbles  seem,  for  the  most  part,  the  work 
but  of  yesterday,  and  their  paint  bright  and  fresh.  ^ 

*  Some  statues  of  the  antique  female  type  here  described  have  been 
discovered,  their  brilliant  colouring  as  fresh  as  on  the  day  when,  after  the 
Persian  inroad,  they  were  dug  into  the  foundations  of  the  new  defences. 


240 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


t  ! 


i'  !' 


il; 


But  some  are  old  and  weather-worn  ;  yonder  female 
figures  with  the  dainty  garments  and  simpering 
mouths  stood  through  the  Persian  sack,  and  their 
colours  are  smirched  with  fire.  Whom  they  com- 
memorate is  doubtful  :  Athena's  priestesses,  some 
say ;  but  others  Athena  herself ;  this,  with  some 
show  of  reason,  for  it  is  Athena's  ground  and  the 
precinct  is  well  peopled  with  her  likenesses.  One 
— a  bronze  colossus — stands  sentinel  over  the  whole 
hill,  a  mountain  of  metal,  the  point  of  whose  up- 
lifted spear  flashes  a  welcome  to  mariners  far  out 
to  sea,  and  beneath  the  shelter  of  whose  mighty 
shield  the  city  may  well  boast  itself  to  lie  secure. 
This  giant  stands  just  within  the  gates ;  and  as  the 
multitude  of  worshippers  press  up  the  central 
roadway,  they  pass  like  a  pigmy  people  under  the 
shadow  of  her  outstretched  arm. 

When  the  farther  limit  of  the  central  pathway 
was  reached,  and  beyond  the  eastern  end  of  the 
Great  Temple,  there  lay  an  open  space.  Here  the 
head  of  the  line  came  to  a  halt.  The  sacred 
garment  was  taken  down  from  its  pole.  It  was 
placed  in  the  High  Priest's  arms.  There  was  a 
cry  for  silence,  the  crowd  stood  still,  and  a  great 
hush  came  over  the  hill-top.  So  still  was  the  air 
that  the  piping  of  a  shepherd  boy  could  be  heard 
rising  from  the  rocks  below,  and  the  song  of  a  slave- 
girl  as  she  filled  her  pitcher  at  the  fountain  sounded 
faintly  from  the  deserted  town.  The  whole  wide 
plain  lay  under  the  noonday  sleeping  like  a  wearied 
man  ;  there  was  nowhere  either  breath  or  motion  ; 
only  the  blue  waves  laughing  in  the  distance  and 
the  blue  hills  shimmering  in  the  haze.  Even  the 
very  swallows,   perching   on   the   painted   cornice 


PANATHENAEA 


241 


overhead,  would  take  fright  at  the  sudden  silence, 
and  dive  down  under  the  Untel  of  the  great  east 
door. 

Through  that  doorway  there  flashed  and  glowed, 
in  the  cool  half-light  of  the  sanctuary,  the  form  of 
the  golden  goddess,  more  exquisitely  wrought  than 
a  well-cut  jewel,  yet  as  monstrous  and  majestic  as 
Dagon  on  his  pedestal.  The  mantle  that  covered 
her  was  from  neck  to  hem  one  sheet  of  beaten  gold  ; 
the  helmet  on  her  head  and  the  angel  of  victory  that 
floated  on  her  palm  were  wrought  in  gold;  the 
buckler,  set  at  her  side,  was  a  crusted  field  of  golden 
shapes.  Her  face  only  and  her  hands  and  feet  were 
of  ivory  inlaid.  Pheidias  made  her  :  and  Perikles 
caused  her  to  be  set  here  in  his  new  temple,  dream- 
ing perhaps  that  his  Athena  might  one  day  receive 
the  supreme  homage  of  the  city.  Perikles  was  now 
dead,  and  Pheidias  an  exile,  but  still  the  great  gold 
image  waited  in  vain ;  and  the  Peplos  went  else- 
whither. 

The  priest  who  held  the  garment  in  his  arms  did 
not  enter  by  that  open  door,  but  moved  to  where 
there  stands,  close  to  the  northern  brow  of  the 
rock,  a  second  shrine.  It  is  far  less  grand,  less 
massive  and  less  masculine  than  the  Great  Temple. 
It  is  fresh  from  the  builder's  hands,  and  much  of 
its  carving  is  still  unfinished.  But  the  site  on  which 
it  stands  holds  for  the  people  of  Athens  all  the 
memories  of  an  ancient  and  hallowed  past.  Here 
Athena's  house  had  stood  beyond  the  memory  of 
living  man.  It  was  the  house  of  that  old  serpent 
which  outlived  the  Persian  sack,  and  of  the  sacred 
olive  too,  the  charred  stump  of  which-had  sent  forth 
a  fresh  sprout  on  the  morrow  of  Salamis.     The 

Q 


242         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

sacred  emblem  which  it  contained  was  a  wooden 
idol,  very  hideous,  but  immensely  old,  so  old  that 
some  declared  it  to  be  the  self-same  fetish  that 
was  carried  off  from  Troy.  Ugly  or  not,  it  was  in 
Athenian  eyes  a  very  sacred  thing,  ^  and  not  for  all 
the  sculptors  or  statesmen  in  the  world  would  they 
abandon  their  old  persuasion. 

So  here  the  Peplos  was  carried  in.     The  ceremony 
of  the  presentation  was  held  in  secret,  and  as  the 
people  waited    outside,    the   sacrifice   was    begun. 
The  oxen  were  led  before  the  broad  rock  slab  that 
served  for  an  altar,  and  slaughtered  there  on  the 
spot.     Select  tit-bits  were  laid  upon  the  fire,  and 
soon  great  columns  of  odorous  smoke  were  pouring 
skywards,  through  which  sounded  the  droning  buzz 
of  pipes  and  the  chanting  of  priestly  choirs.     Mean- 
while the  bulk  of  the  flesh  was  cut  in  portions  and 
equally  distributed  among  the  twenty  city  wards. 
All  day  long  the  smoke  rolled  upwards  ;   but  when 
the  sun,  low  over  the  mountains,  was  already  bathing 
the  hill  in  a  golden  light,  the  priest  stood  forth  and, 
stretching  his   hands   to  heaven,   prayed   a   prayer 
which  the  whole  throng  repeated  with  one  voice, 
a  solemn  and  final  invocation  of  Athena's  blessing 
for  the  year  that  was  just  begun.     The  last  libation 
was  poured ;    the  last  words  said  ;    and  then  they 
departed  homewards  to  break  their  now  lengthy 
fast.     Each  family  roasted  and  with  the  evening 
meal  devoured,  like  the  Hebrews  at  their  Passover, 
its  separate  portion  of  the  sacrificial  meat.^    So 

1  Wundertatigc  Bilder  sind  melst  nur  schlcchte  Gemaldc— Lessing's 

Laocoon.  ^r    l-    l  l-^ 

*  The  Greeks  ate  meat  seldom  on  feast  days.     Ot  this  habit  one  is 
reminded  by  the  modem  custom  in  connection  with  the  Easter  lamb. 


PANATHENAEA 


243 


the  great  day  drew  to  a  close  and  (though  there 
was  a  regatta  in  store  for  the  morrow)  the  best  of 
the  feast  was  now  over.  The  townsfolk,  loath  to 
think  their  pleasures  at  an  end,  made  merry  far  into 
the  night.  But  by  and  by  the  sounds  of  feasting 
died  away  ;  one  by  one  the  last  lights  dropped  out ; 
at  length  only  the  owls  could  be  heard  calling 
from  the  Temple  eaves,  the  lamp  which  burns 
continually  before  the  sacred  image  blinked  sleepily 
over  the  brow  of  the  rock,  as  though  even  Athena 
slept  at  her  post.  It  was  not  indeed  her  final 
slumber  ;  but  on  Olympus  was  already  falling  the 
Twilight  of  the  Gods. 


ii 


PEIRAIEUS 


245 


I  Sill 

I 


XVIII.  PEIRAIEUS 

*  Thcmistokles,  though  thou  art  dead, 
Still  at  thy  tomb,  when  sails  arc  spread. 

Goes  up  the  merchant's  "  Ave  "  j 
And  when  the  battle  lines  are  drawn. 
Come  wings  that  whisper  through  the  morn, 
Thy  spirit 's  with  our  navy/ 

Plato. 

Hard  by  the  quay,  and  conspicuous  above  ware- 
houses, factories,  arsenals,  boat-sheds,  barbers'  shops 
and  fish-stalls  of  Peiraieus,  rose  a  marble  colonnade  ; 
it  stood  close  to  the  water-side,   but   despite  the 
lowness  of  this  situation  it  commanded  within  a 
single  prospect  the  whole  circumference  and  sweep 
of  the  great  harbour.   Under  this  colonnade,  with  the 
wide  expanse  of  water  stretching  almost  at  their 
feet,  four  men  sat  talking  in  the  still  of  the  evening. 
It  was  early  summer,  and  at  the  hour  when  men  are 
naturally  tempted  to  leave  behind  them  the  heat 
and  vexations  of  the  city,  and  wander  down — an 
odd  forty  furlongs  as  the  crow  flies — into  the  cool, 
free,  restful  atmosphere  of  the  port.     The  breeze 
which,   according  to  its  summer  habit,  had  held 
steadily  throughout  the  day,  was  now  dropping  : 
and  there  came,  as  always  at  this  time,  a  lull  and  a 
silence.     The  tiny  ripples  lapped  more  and  more 
drowsily  against  the  land;    the  ships  rocked  less 
and    less   rudely   at    their    moorings :     then   the 
reflections  quivered  and  stood  still,  and  in  a  flash 

244 


the  whole  roadstead  was  turned  to  a  serene  and 
shining  lake. 

Under  the  peaceful  influence  of  this  moment, 
even  the  four  talkers  paused  and  looked  away  into 
the  sunset. 

Out,  beyond  the  harbour  bar,  the  open  water 
still  danced  and  sparkled  under  the  burning  west, 
like  a  live  thread  of  dazzling  silver.  Beyond  lay  a 
range  of  hills,  now  in  the  soft  evening  light  pale 
and  transfigured,  though  in  reality  the  distance  was 
a  trifle  :  a  ferry  plied  across  the  strait  and,  even  as 
the  four  men  watched,  the  boat  was  setting  forth 
on  its  last  passage  for  the  day.  In  mid-channel  lay 
a  long  shelving  rock,  barren  and  seemingly  without 
inhabitant :  at  the  boat's  approach,  however,  a 
vast  flock  of  sea-fowl  rose  circling  and  vociferous. 
This  rock  was  Psyttaleia  :  ^  and  the  hills  towards 
which  the  boat  was  steering,  were  the  hills  of 
Salamis. 

At  this  hour,  so  indolent  and  so  peaceful  is 
Peiraieus  that  it  might  well  be  taken  for  some 
sleepy,  half-forgotten  port.  But,  if  it  sleeps  now, 
it  has  at  least  earned  (better  even  than  the  city) 
a  period  of  repose.  The  day  has  been  a  busy  one 
upon  the  wharves ;  since  early  morning  the  ships 
have  come  and  gone  :  there  have  been  many  fresh 
arrivals  :  and  as  each  ship  puts  in,  the  same  scene 
of  brisk  commotion  is  repeated  at  the  water-side. 
At  the  first  hint  of  approaching  sails,  a  hundred  idle 
fellows  scramble  down  to  the  foreshore  ;  a  dozen 
crazy  shallops  are  launched  and  there  is  a  race  for 

*  On  the  morning  of  the  battle  of  Salamis,  Xerxes  disembarked  on 
this  iroclc  a  picked  regiment  of  Persian  infantry.  Before  nightfall  these 
were  cut  off  and  slaughtered  by  the  victorious  Greeks. 


246         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

the  vessel's  side.     Men  who  own  no  boats  plunge 
into   the   water,    and   stand   waist    deep    shouting 
advice  (to  which  nobody  listens)  or  wrangUng  over 
a   rope   (which,    as   it   turns   out,   nobody   needs). 
Others  more  wisely,  but  no  less  heatedly,  conduct 
on  shore  a  debate  over  the  ship's  identity,  disputing 
whether  she  sails  from  Cyprus,  Rhodes  or  Sicily, 
whether  she  carries  wheat  or  wool,  what  her  name 
may  be  and  who  her  captain.     These  points  once 
settled,  there  is  a  fresh  activity.     If,  upon  closer 
view,  she  proves  to  be  a  corn-ship  from  the  Euxine, 
the   news  spreads   rapidly  on  'Change,  and  down 
come  the  merchants  to  inspect  a  sample   of  her 
cargo.     Still  more  eager  is  the  rush,  when,  upon 
more  rare  occasions,  an  Oriental  trader  makes  the 
port.     While  she  is  still  in  the  offing,  the  barbaric 
cut  of  her  rigging  marks  her  for  what  she  is,  the 
gorgeous  blazon  on  her  main-sail  may  even  proclaim 
her  nationahty  in  advance,  so  that  before  she  has 
dropped  her  anchor,  half  of  the  population  is  down 
on  the  quay  ready  to  waste  an  hour  or  so  in  staring 
at  the  swarthy,  jabbering,  trousered  Tyrians,  and 
watching  them   unload   their  gaudy  knick-knacks, 
their  gay  parti-coloured  carpets,  jewelled  drinking- 
cups,  ivory  dolls,  nuts  and  dried  fruits,  pomades 
and   aromatics,   and    perhaps  (in    half-anticipated 
climax)  a  live  Barbary  ape. 

But  by  and  by  even  this  brief  interlude  is  ended  ; 
the  banker  returns  to  his  counting-desk,  the  loafer 
to  his  broken  slumbers,  the  shipwright  prepares  to 
give  his  boat  another  coat  of  pitch,  the  fisherman 
falls  to  mending  his  nets  again ;  and  the  port 
contentedly  resumes  its  interrupted  music.  So 
the  day  passes,  and  business  goes  forward — until 


PEIRAIEUS 


247 


towards  evening,  the  squabbling  of  the  merchants 
suddenly  slackens.  The  customs-master  closes  his 
office,  the  money-changer  packs  up  his  broad  gold 
Darics  in  one  bag,  his  plump  silver  drachmas  and 
obols  in  another,  and  sweeps  together  a  handful  of 
iron  tokens  (the  clumsy  coinage  of  Byzantium), 
and,  ffinging  them  to  a  roadside  beggar,  departs  for 
home.  The  beggar  too  shifts  to  a  more  profitable 
station.  The  hum  of  the  factories  dies  away  ;  the 
slaves  troop  into  the  open  streets  ;  the  shouting 
and  hammering  in  the  arsenal  sheds  ceases  ;  the 
evening  ferry-boat  puts  out  for  Salamis  :  work  is 
over,  and  the  hour  sacred  to  the  homely  god  of  gossip 

has  begun. 

The  four  men  stirred  and  resumed  their  broken 
discourse.     '  You   mind  the   proverb  ? '    said  the 
youngest  of  the  group  ;  '  If  the  vine-prop  breaks, 
down  comes  the  vine.'     The  speaker  was  an  Ionian 
of  Miletus  :   and  like  most  lonians,  he  was  a  fleshy 
man  with  a  shifty  eye,  a  sleek  handsome  face  and 
an  indolent  habit  of  body.     He  wore  a  coarse  brown 
tunic  which  was  smeared  with  pitch,  and  smelt 
abominably   of   the   bilge.     For   he   was    a    ship's 
captain  fresh  from  the  sea,  and  only  that  morning 
had  brought  his  vessel  into  port.     It  had  been  an 
easy,  uneventful  voyage.     For  to  an  experienced 
pilot  a  cruise  on  those  inland  seas  is  the  merest 
child's  play,  caUing  for  no  special  skill  or  hardihood. 
To  calculate  the  currents  without  a  chart,  to  know 
the  stars,  to  use  a  following  wind  and  none  other,  to 
spare  the  oar  as  much  as  may  be ;  lastly,  and  as  if 
hfe  depended  on  ir,  to  hug  the  land,  and  at  the 
rising  of  the  wind  run  for  a  sheltering  shore— these 
were  the  simple  elements  of  the  Greek  navigator's 


Hi! 


248 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


PEIRAIEUS 


249 


:(!l! 


science.  For  the  rest,  each  day  was  exactly  like  its 
fellow  :  a  cloudless  summer  sky  above  and  a  waveless 
summer  sea  beneath  (for  no  prudent  mariner  would 
ever  venture  out  of  port  till  the  Pleiads  were  well 
up  and  winter  over)  ;  each  morning  (as  surely 
as  the  sun  rises),  a  breeze  out  of  the  north  ;  each 
evening,  by  the  same  immutable  decree  of  nature, 
a  breeze  out  of  the  south.  All  day  long  he  could  sit 
lazily  at  the  tiller,  and  watch  the  dreamy  islands 
float  by,  and  pass  away  behind  him,  losing  themselves 
at  last  in  a  blue  shimmer  of  the  sky-line.  Often  at 
noon,  to  vary  the  monotony,  they  would  beach  the 
vessel  in  some  sunny  bay  and  eat  a  meal  there, 
washing  it  down  perhaps  with  a  jar  of  sweet  white 
wine  purchased  from  the  friendly  islanders.  At 
nightfall,  too,  if  possible,  they  would  put  in  again 
and  bivouac  on  shore.  For,  like  the  rest  of  his 
tribe,  the  worthy  skipper  was  never  wholly  recon- 
ciled to  the  discomforts  of  his  ship.  Indeed  his 
temperament  was  more  suited  to  a  road-tramp 
than  a  mariner,  and  he  would  rather  miss  his  market 
(though  of  that  there  was  no  great  risk)  than  consent 
to  violate  a  lifelong  habit  or  to  spoil  the  pleasures 
of  a  voyage  which,  if  it  were  to  be  worth  the  making, 
should  be  conducted  '  decently  and  in  order.' 
Despite  these  easygoing  methods,  the  skipper  is  no 
fool :  he  is  known  for  a  shrewd  man  of  business, 
who,  if  he  needs  capital  to  finance  a  venture,  can 
tell  precisely  where  easy  terms  may  be  met  with, 
and  for  what  sum  his  vessel  or  his  freight  will  stand 
him  security.  He  can  predict  the  best  market  for 
Athenian  crockery,  and  estimate  to  the  fraction  of 
an  obol  what  Attic  olives  will  be  fetching  at  Ephesus. 
His  calculations  are  invariably  made  for  the  *  double 


voyage '  :    so  that  on  his  homeward  beat  he  never 
fails  to  take  in  wheat  at  Byzantium,  or  it  may  be  a 
load  of  timber  on  the  Thracian  coast.     His  caution 
is  proverbial :    and  though  he  has  shipped  perhaps 
a  hundred  cargoes  in  his  time,  he  has  only  once  lost 
a  vessel  :     and   even   then  (since   the   capital  was 
borrowed  at  the  lender's  risk)  he  was  not  above 
suspicion  of  having   profited  by  the   catastrophe. 
Sometimes,  if  his  word  is  to  be  trusted,  he  has  made 
more    adventurous    cruises    to    yet    more    distant 
shores ;    and  he  is  well  known  at  the  home  port 
(where  he  spends  the  long  winter  months  in  snug 
inaction),  for  marvellous  stories  he  can  tell  of  the 
outlandish  corners  of  the  world,  stories  of  one-eyed 
cannibals,  of  men  with  feet  as  large  as  pumpkins, 
of  countries  where  for  whole  months  at  a  stretch 
the  sky  rains  showers  of  feathers ;    or,  if  he  ^  has  a 
mind  to  make  his  audience  shudder,  he  has  hideous 
tales  of  Scythian  tortures  and  of  savage  men  who 
can  transform  themselves  at  will  into  the  shape  of 
wolves.     Even  now — though  it  is  of  no  such  un- 
canny  matters   he   is   speaking— the    spell    of^  his 
racy  eloquence   holds    fast   his  three   companions, 
who   listen   with    something   like    consternation  in 

their  faces. 

'  If  the  vine-prop  breaks,'  he  repeated  in  the 
added  emphasis,  '  down  comes  the  vine.  A  rift 
in  your  precious  League,  a  successful  insurrection, 
and,  by  the  dog  of  Egypt,  there  's  Athens  in  the 
dust.  It  is  not  a  month  since  I  was  in  Chios,  and 
what  they  are  talking  there,  and  in  open  market, 
if  you  please,  is  rank  treason  every  syllable.  Come 
next  Dionysia,  and,  if  I  am  not  much  mistaken, 
these  islanders  will  be  buzzing  round  your  heads,  like 


250 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


PEIRAIEUS 


251 


i 


flies  over  a  carcase.  Leastways,  should  Sparta 
break  the  truce,  there  will  be  no  holding  them, 
and  then  you  may  whistle  in  vain  for  your  freights 
of  foreign  corn.  I  tell  you  I  know  foul  weather, 
when  I  see  it — as  sure  as  when  clouds  gather  on 
Hymettos,  there  is  a  storm  brewing.  Fqr  my  part 
I  have  done  with  Athens ;  I  shall  buy  a  boat  and 
sail  with  Alkibiades  to-morrow.  I  'm  for  the  west, 
my  masters,  and  it  may  be,  who  knows  ?  that  even 
the  cruise  to  Sicily  will  prove  too  short  for  me.  I 
met  a  man  once — ^he  was  a  merchant  from  Tartessos 
— that  told  me  of  wonderful  lands  out  in  the  great 
sea  beyond  the  Pillars,  lands  where  they  gathered 
gold  in  the  ship's  buckets,  and  loaded  up  with 
silver  for  ballast — rivers  of  amber,  mountains  of 
tin  .  .  .,'  and  the  man's  voice  positively  failed, 
such  was  the  gusto  of  adventure  that  seized  upon 
him,  even  as  it  seized  on  the  men  of  Raleigh  when 
first  they  listened  to  tales  of  the  illimitable  riches  of 
the  Eldorado. 

Before  he  was  able  to  continue  there  came  an 
interruption  from  his  neighbour,  a  stout,  serious 
man  who  set  more  store  by  one  solid  fact  from 
Chios  than  by  all  the  fairy  stories  of  Phoenicia. 
He  too  was  a  man  of  commerce,  but  a  merchant 
rather  than  a  trader.  His  origin  and  parentage 
were  as  obscure  as  his  wealth  was  obtrusive  :  and 
for  both  reasons  his  fellow-citizens  heartily  disUked 
him.  Nor  was  his  position  bettered,  when  the 
story  was  put  about,  that  he  had  shirked  his  service 
with  the  infantry.  It  was  of  no  avail  to  plead  the 
privilege  of  exemption  allowed  by  law  to  all  bona- 
fide  merchants.  In  vain  he  had  lavished  the  most 
generous  benefactions  on  an  ungrateful  country  : 


he  even  equipped   and   furnished  a   State  galley, 
voluntarily,  and  at  his  own  expense.     But  men  still 
called  him  a  coward  :    and  when  the  boys  at  the 
wrestling-school  took  to  laughing  at  his  figure,  he 
was  true  to  that  reputation  and  began  to  stay  away 
—a  remedy  which,  however,  only  served  to  aggravate 
the  defect.     His  appearance,  in  short,  was  as  vulgar 
as  his  manners ;    he  kept  his  hair  perfumed,  and 
very  long,  affected  a  wide  border  to  his  cloak,  and 
wore  on  his  right  hand  an  enormous  signet  which 
he  used  with   ostentation   for   sealing  his   bonds. 
His  speech  was  loud  and  pompous,  and  though  he 
had  listened  with  more  than  his  usual  patience  to 
the  rumours   from  Chios,  he  now  burst  out  mto 
noisy  expostulation. 

'Plots   and   treachery  and   sedition,    he   cried: 
'  it  is  always  the  same  story  !     And  where  is  the 
wonder  ?     We  have  nobody  to  blame  for  it  except 
ourselves ;  we  pamper  these  alUes,  I  tell  you,  with  our 
trade  concessions,  our  treaty  rights,  our  privileges 
at  law.     Allies  forsooth !     Old  Kleon  (he  at  least 
knew  black  from  white)  had  a  shorter  name  for  them 
than  that.     "  Skin  the  flayed  dog,"  says  he,  "  tax 
them  double,  make  them  pay,  keep  them  weak  1 
Name  of  a  name,i  but  there  's  a  deal  of  sense  in 
that.    What  said  that  pale-faced  sophist,  Kephalos, 
yesterday  down  at  thy  house  ?   "Might  is  right, 
says  he,  and  never  man  spoke  truer  word.     Yes, 
my  friend,  Mercy  is  a  bad  master,  and  weU  the 
knaves  know  it  ...  I  tell  you  they  need  Master 
Kleon    back.      True,    if   he    cared    to,    Alkibiades 

1  A  favourite  form  of  swearing  at  Athens  consisted  in  stopping  short 
of  the  god's  name  intended,  <  By  the  .  .  .'  This  modem  expletive  I 
take  t:o  be  the  nearest  equivalent ;  at  any  rate,  a  superstitious  reluctance 
to  mention  the  name  is  the  origin  of  both. 


252         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

could  manage  them— Melos  will  testify  that  much— 
but  now  he  's  oflF  on  this  giddy  new  dance  of  West- 
^  ward   ho !      It 's    Syracuse    to-day,    Carthage    to- 
morrow ;   why,  the  town  can  talk  of  nothing  else, 
and  every  raw  apprentice  in  the  shops  is  drawing 
maps  of  Libya  on  the  sand.     I  'm  not  saying,  mind 
you,  but  there  may  be  something  in  the  scheme. 
There  is^  a  grand  field  for  us  out  West.     Corinth 
has  had  it  her  own  way  there  all  too  long  ;   and  if 
there  's  not  cash  in  plenty  for  those  that  join  the 
venture,    then    I    am    no    prophet.     I    would    sail 
myself  were  it  not  for  my  duties  here  .  .  .  but  what 
will  you  ?     I  'm  not  free  to  travel.     I  have  three 
corn-ships  in  the  Euxine,  a  couple  more  in  Cyprus, 
a   cargo   of   silphium    due   this    day   month   from 
Cyrene,  two  carrying  pots  and  metal  to  Tarentum, 
to  say  nothing  of  a  pretty  httle  craft  I  have  chartered 
for  the  Lycian   coast  which  as   between   friends, 
you  know,  spells  slaves.     Still  I  shall  have  a  finger 
m  the  game,  trust  me.     In  any  case  I  shall  send  my 
son ;  we  have  fitted  out  a  galley,  and  we  have  a 
merchantman  ready  to  follow'  (and   he   pointed 
away  to  the  left  where  hnes  of  vessels  lay  hauled 
up    on   shore).     He   continued   with    some    heat  : 
Unless,  that  is,  Nikias  cancels  the  whole  excursion. 
Plague  take  him  for  a  canting  meddler  !     What 's 
Sicily  to  him,  the  sly  intriguing  spoil-sport  ?     Every 
fool  knows  where  he  has  his  own  little  nest-egg.     I 
will  wager,  if  he  owns  one  slave  in  the  Laurian  mines, 
he  owns  a  thousand.     God  send  his  soul  to  Hades, 
and  his  carcase  to  the  crows.' 

At  the  sound  of  Nikias'  name,  a  third  member  of 
the  party,  who  had  remained  hitherto  rapt  in  gloomy 
contemplation,    now    slowly   raised   his    eyes.     His 


PEIRAIEUS 


253 


name  was  Stilbides  :  a  soothsayer  by  profession,  and, 
it  was  commonly  asserted,  in  the  pay  of  Nikias 
himself.  The  general  appearance  of  the  man,  his 
pinched  and  haggard  face,  his  unkempt  beard,  his 
cloak  weather-stained  and  threadbare,  all  presented 
the  strongest  imaginable  contrast  to  the  wealthy 
merchant  on  whom  he  now  turned  a  bright,  in- 
dignant eye.  '  My  friend,'  he  began  in  a  shrill, 
rasping  voice,  '  thou  dost  wrong,  grievous  wrong, 
to  the  most  righteous  and  scrupulous  of  men.  If 
the  fleet  sails,  then  blame  the  Evil  Genius  of  our 
country — but  pity  Nikias.  Last  night,  I  dreamed 
a  dream  which,  did  not  piety  forbid  me  to  disclose 
it,  would  fully  convince  even  thy  darkened  mind. 
In  truth,  sir  (this  to  the  skipper),  thou  err  est 
strangely  to  think  this  voyage  can  prosper.  I  can 
scarce  believe  that  thou  hast  heard  what  awful 
catastrophe  has  of  late  befallen  the  city.  Did  they 
not  tell  thee  how,  not  many  days  since,  we  awakened 
from  our  beds  to  find  the  holy  emblems  at  our  very 
doors  insulted  and  defiled — aye,  grossly  cut  about 
and  mangled  while  we  slept — Zeus  in  heaven  have 
mercy  on  us  all,  and  may  he  visit  the  omen  on  the 
true  offender's  head.  Men  declare  (though  nothing 
is  yet  proven)  that  the  hand  which  did  it  was  the 
hand  of  Alkibiades  the  son  of  Kleinias,  and  they  say 
that  he  is  already  denounced.  It  is  like  enough  he 
is  guilty.  Which  of  us  has  forgotten  the  dark  deeds 
that  he  committed  years  ago,  against  our  Most 
Holy  One  ?  Therefore  is  the  plague  come  upon 
us.  Verily,  his  life  is  an  offence  to  Heaven.  He 
bears  on  his  head  the  curse  of  Kylon.  Ruin  cannot 
but  faU  on  the  fair  crowned  city  of  Kekrops,'  and 
the  maudlin  fellow,  in  the  fervour  of  prophetic 


254        THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

utterance  was  positively  breaking  into  the  conven- 
tional metre  of  his  craft,  when  the  venerable  gentle- 
man at  his  side  cut  him  short.  He  was  very  old 
and  spoke  with  the  mild  dignity  of  a  patriarch. 
Kephalos  (for  such  was  his  name)  had  begun  life  as 
a  citizen  of  Thurii ;  from  that  town  he  had  at 
Perikles'  express  invitation  removed  to  Athens,  ^ 
where  he  was  now  spending  his  declining  years  in 
a  green  and  prosperous  old  age. 

'  My  friends,'  he  said, '  forgive  me  if  I  speak  with 
warmth,  but  I  am  from  western  parts  myself  :  and 
I  know  something  of  the  temper  of  that  island. 
Remember,  I  pray  you,  that  those  brave  men  are 
Hellenes  like  yourselves,  not  in  name  only,  but  in 
spirit.     I  know  full  well  that  they  will  never  yield 
to  your  armies.     The  whole  country  will  rise  as 
one  man  against  you.     As  for  Segesta  2  and  her 
promise    of   support,  trust  it   not.      Her    boasted 
wealth,  of  which  your  ambassadors  have  told,  is  a 
fairy-tale,  and  a  delusion.     Her  strength  is  as  the 
strength  of  the  fig-tree  that  breaks  under  the  hand. 
As  for  Corinth,  why  would  you  meddle  with  that 
unhappy  town  ?     Has  not  the  poet  said  that  of  all 
earthly  plagues  wealth  is  the  worst ;   in  God's  good 
time  the  insolence  of  her  riches  will  work  her  own 
destruction.     Nay,  my  friends,  consider  that  city 
happy  which  meddles  least  with  her  neighbours' 

1  Kephalos  belonged  to  the  class  known  as  Metics  or  Outlanders ; 
a  class  which  Athens,  unlike  some  Greek  states,  encouraged  by  various 
privileges. 

*  The  citizens  of  Segesta  had  dazzled  the  eyes  of  the  Athenian 
embassy  by  a  simple  ruse.  Inviting  them  to  dinner  at  a  certain  house, 
they  had  collected  thither  all  the  gold  and  silver  plate  of  the  township. 
The  guests  were  much  impressed  ;  and  still  more  so  when  the  same 
process  was  repeated  the  day  following  at  a  different  house. 


PEIRAIEUS 


255 


business,  and  take  to  heart  the  saying  of  the  good 
Sokrates,  that  no  man  should  ever  pass  beyond  his 
country's  border  except  at  his  country's  bidding.' 

To  this  last  doctrine,  the  two  first  speakers  were 
about  to  offer  a  strenuous  opposition  :  but  Kephalos 
waved  them  aside.  '  Let  us  speak  of  that  another 
day,'  he  said,  '  the  sun  is  setting  and  I  have  a  sacri- 
fice to  perform,'  and  with  that  he  left  them  to  con- 
tinue the  argument  alone. 

The  sailor  now  declared  that  he  must  sleep  that 
night  in  Athens ;  and  the  merchant  undertook  to 
see  him  on  his  road,  finding  occasion  by  the  way 
to  suggest  an  advantageous  loan,  at  two  drachmae  on 
the  mina  ^ — a  rate  of  interest  which  (since  the 
Greeks  reckoned  by  a  system  of  monthly  payment) 
represents  the  modest  proposition  of  twenty-four 
per  cent.  Meanwhile  Stilbides,  being  left  to  find 
his  own  way  home,  did  not  follow  them  along  the 
shortest  route  to  Athens,  but  took  the  other  road 
that  led  outside  the  Long  Walls  and  entered  by  the 
Dipylon  gate.  This  track,  as  it  neared  the  city, 
passed  close  under  a  deserted  quarry  where  the 
dead  bodies  of  criminals  were  thrown  after  execu- 
tion. Stilbides,  on  approaching  the  spot,  must 
suddenly  have  been  reminded  of  this  uncanny 
circumstance  :  for  he  turned  sharply  in  his  tracks, 
rapidly  retraced  his  way  to  the  Peiraieus,  and  entered 
Athens  by  the  direct  route  between  the  walls. 
Truth  to  tell,  the  prophet's  nerve  was  already 
badly  shaken,  and  little  wonder ;  for  despite  his 
own  dark  forebodings  and  his  vision  of  the  impend- 

*  One  drachma  on  the  mina,  viz.  one  per  cent.,  was  the  usual  rate  of 
interest,  which  being  reckoned  on  monthly  payments  amounted  to  twelve 
per  cent,  per  annum. 


! 


r ! 
1 1 


I 


i 


2S6        THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

ing  doom,  he  had  that  very  day  given  an  under- 
taking to  sail  with  Nikias  to  Sicily. 

Next  morning,  very  early  before  sunrise,  the  road 
by  which  Stilbides  had  entered  overnight  was  filled 
by  a  great  and  noisy  throng  of  people  passing 
down  to  the  port — not  sailors  only,  men-at-arms, 
and  merchants,  but  every  man  in  Athens,  were  he 
citizen,  slave  or  stranger,  who  had  either  a  relative 
or  friend  on  board  or  a  desire  to  see  the  Grand 
Fleet  sail.  With  high  wall  on  this  hand  and  high 
wall  on  that,  the  road  they  followed  ran  dead  straight 
across  the  level  plain,  ^  until  at  last  it  reached  the 
abrupt  slope  of  a  rocky  eminence,  at  the  foot  of 
which  lay  the  suburbs  or  outskirts  of  the  port. 
Here  the  two  walls  parted  to  enclose  and  protect  the 
town.  Although  comparatively  new  the  town  of 
Peiraieus  was  of  large  extent.  Like  the  mushroom 
cities  of  the  new  world,  it  was  laid  out  according  to  a 
severe  geometric  scheme.  Its  square-cut  tenements 
and  rectilineal  streets  stood  in  odd  contrast  to  the 
winding  lanes  and  haphazard  planning  of  Old 
Athens.  The  citizens  themselves  were  vastly  proud 
of  their  brand-new  chessboard  town  ;  but,  just  as 
the  old-fashioned  Londoner  might  prefer  the  dark 
and  squalid  alleys  of  Old  Smithfield  to  the  broader 

I  The  space  between  the  walls  was  about  two  hundred  yards. 
Originally  it  would  seem  a  third  wall  had  run  farther  to  the  south-east, 
enclosing  a  far  wider  area  of  country,  and  taking  in  the  broad  sandy 
bay  of  Phaleron.  This  bay  was  in  early  days  the  only  harbour  of 
Athens.  But  Themistokles,  seeing  it  much^  exposed  to  enemy  raids, 
had  persuaded  the  Athenians  to  employ  the  natural  rock-harbour  of 
Peiraieus.  So  the  bay  of  Phaleron  lost  its  importance  as  the  industrial 
activity  of  Athens  grew.  It  became  merely  a  haunt  of  fisher-folk,  and 
the  third  wall  which  had  been  built  by  Themistokles'  short-sighted 
successors  was  suffered  to  decay. 


PEIRAIEUS 


257 


spaces  of  Piccadilly  and  the  Mall,  so  the  Athenian's 
heart  still  warmed  to  the  less  sanitary  byways  of 
the  mother  city.  The  area  upon  which  the  town 
stood  was  a  point  or  peninsula  west  of  the  Phaleron 
bay.  This  peninsula  is  a  gigantic  knob  of  rock, 
on  the  seaward  or  eastern  side  robbed,  as  if  by 
some  ocean  monster,  of  two  small  circular  bites 
(these  were  the  harbours  of  New  Phaleron  ^  and 
Munychia),  while  the  side  that  looks  towards 
Salamis  had  suffered  more  considerable  indenta- 
tion. This  bay  was  known  as  the  Great  Harbour,  and 
it  was  here  upon  that  morning  in  early  summer 
that  the  ships  of  the  fleet  had  been  launched  and 
rode  at  anchor. 

They  were  a  brilliant  spectacle,  and  worthy  of  the 
city  that  sent  them  forth.  The  men  on  whom  had 
fallen  the  fitting  and  equipment  of  the  triremes 
had  vied  with  each  other  in  a  loyal  prodigaUty. 
The  lithe  black  bodies  had  each  its  new  coat  of 
pitch  ;  the  gilt  on  the  prowheads  was  newly  bur- 
nished ;  and  the  great  square  main-sails  were  dyed 
with  new  devices  in  yellow  and  brown  and  crimson. 
All  told,  there  were  more  than  six-score  galleys, 
and  four  thousand  hoplites  were  to  board  the  trans- 
ports, while  over  and  above  these,  many  merchant- 
men had  been  fitted  out  by  private  enterprise. 
Such  a  fleet  had  never  before  put  out  from  Athens, 
yet,  such  was  the  public  ardour  for  the  expedition, 
there  vv^as  not  a  place  unfilled.  Every  petty  ad- 
venturer who  had  two  drachmae  to  his  credit  had 
paid  2  his  passage,  and  flattered  himself  that  his 

1  Not  to  be  confused  with  the  sandy  bay  above  mentioned. 
*  Passenger  rates  were  very  low  in  Greece,  two  drachmae,  for  example, 
took  you  to  Egypt.    Presumably  you  had  to  provide  your  own  food. 

R 


fi 


258 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


fortune  was  as  good  as  made.  Against  the  extrava- 
gance of  this  Ught-hearted  confidence,  and  the  mad 
lust  which  urged  Athens  on  to  western  conquest, 
no  saner  counsels  could  prevail.  Many  politicians — 
especially  those  of  the  landed  interest,  the  adherents 
of  the  old  regime — had  denounced  the  whole  under- 
taking from  the  Bema  ;  others  had  cited  oracles 
and  portents  which  revealed  the  god's  evident  dis- 
pleasure. But  neither  carried  weight  with  the  mob. 
Even  the  horror  which  was  roused  by  the  mutilation 
of  the  sacred  stones  was  soon  forgotten,  and  all 
investigations  concerning  it  were  postponed.  In 
vain  did  Theodoros  the  priest  of  Eleusis  call  down 
curses  on  the  head  of  Alkibiades.  In  vain  did 
Meton  the  old  astrologer,  frantic  to  prevent  his 
son  from  sailing,  exhaust  all  the  devices  of  magic 
and  divination  :  till,  all  other  expedients  faihng,  he 
went  home  and  burnt  the  house  down  over  his  head. 
Most  pitiable  of  all  was  Nikias,  chosen  to  command 
the  expedition  and  yet  inwardly  persuaded  of  its 
folly.  A  prey  to  both  a  wasting  physical  disease 
and  the  forebodings  of  a  superstitious  mind,  he 
suffered  during  those  days  an  agony  of  fear  :  he 
was  ready  to  grasp  at  every  straw ;  and  stooped  to 
the  most  humiliating  shifts,  if  only  to  delay  for  a 
little  the  imminent  departure.  A  pathetic  figure, 
helpless  in  the  hands  of  Fate  and  King  Demos,  he 
deserved  less  than  any  the  miserable  destiny  that 
was  in  store.  And  now  as  he  went  down  to  the  sea, 
aloof  and  melancholy  as  was  his  fashion,  he  shuddered 
to  hear  the  flippant  banter  and  loud  laugh  of  his 
rival.  For  Alkibiades,  though  a  grave  charge  and 
a  priest's  ban  hung  over  him,  yet  went  his  way 
cheery  and  boastful  as  ever.     He  rallied  Nikias  for 


PEIRAIEUS 


2S9 


his  baseless  fears,  and  when  a  friend  pointed  out 
to  him  a  gathering  on  the  housetops,  and  recalled 
how,  on  that  day,  the  women  of  Athens  were  to 
sing  the  Death-song  and  commemorate  the  Passing 
of  Adonis,  he  scoffed  at  the  superstitious  implica- 
tion— *  Dear  hearts,'  he  cried,  *  bid  them  to  grieve 
not  overmuch  for  their  Adonis,  he  will  be  back  in 
Athens  with  the  spring.'  Stilbides,  who  was  walking 
within  earshot,  noted  the  omen  and  spat  in  his 
bosom. 

On  the  quay  there  was  an  indescribable  con- 
fusion. Thousands  were  clasping  hands  and  saying 
their  farewells,  many  were  weeping.  Others  helped 
the  sailors  to  coax  the  horses  up  the  gangways, 
watched  the  troops  as  they  filed  on  board  their 
transports,  or  cheered  the  rowers  as  with  oar  and 
cushion  on  their  shoulder  they  were  ferried  out  to 
their  galleys.  When  every  one  was  aboard,  a  trumpet 
sounded  and  there  was  silence.  The  Herald  on 
the  flagship  recited  aloud  the  prayer  for  victory  and 
a  safe  return,  the  crews  repeating  the  words  after 
him  and  those  on  shore  joining  in.  When  the 
prayer  was  ended,  each  captain  called  the  men- 
at-arms  about  him  (while  the  rowers  stayed . 
below)  and  taking  a  vessel  of  gold  or  silver  in 
his  hands,  he  poured  a  libation  on  the  upper 
deck.  At  length,  this  last  ceremony  performed 
(as  upon  ships  newly  christened),  the  order  was 
given,  the  blades  struck  water,  and  the  grand  armada 
moved  out  in  silence  with  the  great  crowd  stand- 
ing by. 

They  passed  the  harbour  bar  in  line,  then,  spread- 
ing out,  they  hoisted  sail  and  the  faster  vessels  raced 
each  other  as  far  as  the  island  of  Aegina.    The  fore- 


26o        THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

most  ship  flew  the  admiral's  pennon:  and  the 
rumour  ran  round  that  Alkibiades  led  the 
hne.  Bless  him,'  said  Timon  the  hermit  as 
Ae  retired  to  his  sohtary  tower,  'he  will  ruin 
the  city  yet. 


ii 


\ 


< 
H 

C/3 


SPARTA  ;  A  PYRRHIC  DANCE 

The  snowfields  and  foothills  of  Mount  Taygctos  rise  be- 
hind. The  Langada  pass,  which  leads  over  the  mountain 
to  Messcnia,  runs  up  the  ravines  upon  the  right. 


XIX.  SPARTA 

*  Stane  wa's  do  not  a  city  make' 

(Spartan  Maxim.) 

About  Greece,  and  especially  about  the  natural 
features  of  Greece,  the  poets  have  blundered  terribly. 
The  strangest  tricks  have  been  played  with  that 
land's  geography  in  the  name  of  literary  tradition, 
and  thus  it  is  that  for  an  accurate  appreciation  of 
its  landscape  nine  readers  out  of  ten  are  utterly  at 
fault. 

It  would  be  a  fair  revenge  to  take  some  writer  of 
gUb  pastorals  and  lead  him  up  into  a  certain  bleak  and 
elevated  region,  so  deplorably  flat  that  its  marshes 
must  lie  stagnant  all  the  year  with  no  stream  to 
drain  them,  so  caught  in  and  ringed  about  by  cold 
high  hills,  that  the  whole  landscape  has  a  feeling 
as  of  something  utterly  remote  and  banished  from 
the  world.  There  from  some  wizened  Corin,  who 
sits  under  a  stunted  thorn-tree,  tending  pigs,  the 
stranger  at  length  might  learn  that  these  are  the 
*  flower-strewn  hills  of  Arcady.' 

It  should  be  his  next  business  to  take  the  Sparta 
road  and  go  in  quest  of  some  wind-swept  upland 
province,  still  more  comfortless,  and  fit  (as  he 
fancies)  to  have  bred  that  people,  whose  perverted 
taste  it  was  to  bathe  all  the  year  round  in  the  river 
and  exercise  without  clothes  in  winter  time. 

The  journey  will  be  long,  but  a  traveller,  *  well- 

262 


SPARTA 


263 


girt '  and  starting  at  dawn,  may  cover  the  distance 
in  a  day.  At  sundown  the  track,  which  has  been 
winding  hitherto  among  steep  desolate  moors, 
takes  a  sudden  downward  plunge ;  the  hills  fall 
away  ;  and  there,  beneath  his  feet,  lies  nestling,  like 
some  sheltered  creek  among  high  mountains,  a 
warm  leafy  plain.  It  is  the  very  garden  of  Greece. 
Taygetos,  the  guardian  monster  of  the  plain,  sprawls 
mountainous  across  the  west,  dividing  the  sky  with 
snows  which  even  in  summer  sprinkle  his  jagged  spine. 
Close  under  his  sheer  flanks  lies  the  vale,  a  narrow 
strip  indeed,  but  fruitful,  deep-coloured,  pleasant 
with  ripphng  streams,  and  clothed  for  the  most 
part  with  orchards  of  low  trees,  olives,  figs,  and 
pomegranates,  apple-trees  and  mulberries,  while 
here  and  there  a  tall  cypress  or  poplar  thrusts  up 
a  head.  The  broad  track  of  a  river  may  be  seen 
as  it  threads  in  and  out  among  the  trees,  winding 
deviously  southward ;  and  though  in  summer  the 
Eurotas'  waters  dwindle  sadly  between  wide  beaches 
of  barren  shingle,  yet  the  stream  is  always  strong. 

*  This  plain,'  says  our  pastoral  poet,  being  a  man 
of  education  and  blessed  with  some  smatterings  of 
science,  '  this  plain  must  always  have  been  the  curse 
of  its  possessors.  The  warm  cUmate  would  surely 
sap  their  strength,  the  soil  so  easy  of  cultivation,  so 
rich  in  production,  would  teach  luxurious  and  lazy 
habits.  It  cannot  be  but  the  people  led  a  soft  and 
idle  life.' 

Yet  such  was  not  the  life  that  Alkibiades  found 
when  he  came  to  the  Spartan  plain,  flying  from  the 
anger  of  his  countrymen.  To  the  fine  gentleman 
from  Athens  the  change  was  rude ;  but  being  at 
their  mercy,  he  must  be  at  some  pains  to  win  his 


I' 


264         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

way  among  these  people,  with  whom  it  was  a 
point  of  pride  to  dismiss  intruders  without  ceremony 
and  be  churlish  even  to  their  friends.  Therefore, 
much  as  he  hated  physical  discomfort,  he  adopted 
their  strict  habits,  washed  in  cold  water,  wore  a 
short  cloak  and  shaved  his  upper  Up.  It  must  have 
been  a  strange  and  bitter  contrast,  after  the  free 
and  easy  liberties  of  Athens,  to  submit  to  this 
barrack  life  of  military  routine.  But  he  had  no 
choice  in  it.  He  was  admitted  on  sufferance  as  a 
declared  enemy  of  Athens,  though  even  so  not 
without  suspicion,  and  by  the  patronage  of  a  friend 
(for  his  family  was  well  known  in  Sparta)  he  was 
introduced  into  a  mess  or  club.  The  formalities  of 
election  were  performed,  a  large  bowl  was  handed 
round  in  which  each  of  the  fifteen  club-men  dropped 
a  pellet  of  bread.  When  none  of  the  pellets  were 
found  flattened  by  the  thumb,  Alkibiades  was 
admitted  as  member  of  the  mess.^ 

It  was  the  rule  at  Sparta  that  the  men  should  live, 
not  at  their  homes,  but  herded  together  soldier- 
wise.  It  was  also  a  rule  that  each  member  should 
contribute  to  his  mess  a  fixed  quantity  of  food,  to 
wit,  eighteen  gallons  of  barley  meal,  sixty  pints  of 
wine,  and  a  small  quantity  of  figs  and  cheese.  After 
a  successful  hunt  a  member  might  give  an  extra 
feed  and  claim  special  credit.  Alkibiades,  as  hon- 
orary member,  was  excused  these  duties  :  he  could 
hardly  have  performed  them,  and  failure  was  nor- 
mally followed  by  exclusion  from  the  club — a  sad 

*  This  sketch  of  Spartan  life  must  necessarily  represent  Sparta  as  seen 
through  Athenian  eyes — doubtless  a  somewhat  one-sided  and  exagger- 
ated perspective.  The  Athenians  regarded  Sparta  (as  Professor  Bury 
somewhere  says)  as,  like  a  Doric  temple,  dignified  but  uncomfortable 
to  live  in. 


SPARTA 


265 


calamity  which  left  the  defaulter,  as  it  were,  a  social 
bankrupt,  neither  citizen  nor  slave.  The  meal 
was  eaten  every  evening  in  a  bare  hall  decorated  in 
the  rudest  fashion  (for  law  forbade  the  use  of  all 
tools  save  the  axe),  and  the  food  was  most  unpalat- 
able. The  staple  dish,  besides  pork,  was  the 
Spartan  '  Kail,'  famous  mainly  for  its  nasty  taste, 
and  so  nauseous  that  it  was  said  nothing  short  of  a 
plunge  in  the  Eurotas  could  give  an  appetite  for  it. 
A  certain  satirical  gourmand,  upon  a  bare  recital 
of  its  qualities,  declared  the  broth  to  be  a  sufficient 
reason  why  no  Spartan  was  afraid  of  death. 

If  the  Spartan  was  not  a  dainty  feeder,  he  was 
by  no  means  a  pleasant  table-mate.  Let  alone  his 
Doric  dialect,  which  to  Alkibiades  was  often  unin- 
telligible (he  lisped  his  *  th '  like  a  Frenchman, 
and  leant  upon  his  vowels  broadly  like  a  Scot), 
there  w  as  no  knowing  what  to  make  of  him,  so  queerly 
compounded  of  contradictions  was  his  character. 
His  clothes,  for  instance,  were  foul  beyond  words : 
yet  he  was  in  some  points  inordinately  careful  of  his 
person,  and  his  toilette  before  battle  had  astounded 
even  that  ^  grand  monarque  '  the  King  of  Persia. 
He  lived  the  laborious  life  of  an  over-trained 
athlete,  but  he  would  not  lay  a  finger  to  any  manual 
task,  holding  such  work  to  be  fit  for  none  but 
slaves.  He  was  as  dull  as  a  routine  could  make  him, 
which  was  all  '  play  '  and  no  headwork.  But  with 
all  his  dulness  he  had  a  well-established  reputation 
for  wit.  This  showed  best  in  those  abrupt  out- 
bursts of  repartee,  of  which  the  point  was  often 
neither  subtle  nor  polite.  ^  Who  is  the  best  of  the 
Spartans  ? '  a  stranger  was  heard  to  ask,  mimicking 
a  question  which  Spartan  elders  loved  to  put  to 


266 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


boys.  *  The  least  your  like,'  was  the  quick  retort. 
A  Spartan  was  not  himself  easily  moved  to  mirth ; 
he  was  not  apt  to  seize  a  point,  nor  was  he  quick 
in  conception ;  but  (and  in  this  as  in  the  last  respect, 
he  resembled  strongly  our  Northern  countrymen) 
he  was  canny  to  a  degree,  and  possessed  of  much 
broad  common  sense.  Lysander  was  once  offered  a 
choice  of  two  garments  for  a  present  to  his  daughter. 
^A'm  thinkinV  he  said,  *  I 'U  tak  baith :  the 
bairn  '11  best  ken  her  ain  mind.'  They  might  have 
made  shrewd  men  of  business,  had  they  made  it 
their  object  to  amass  wealth,  but  with  a  currency 
of  iron  ingots  this  was  hardly  practicable.  It  was 
said  that  nine  or  ten  minae  (the  cost  of  an  expen- 
sive slave)  would  have  filled  a  large-sized  wagon. 
This  cumbrous  device,  which  was  designed  to  pre- 
vent trading  and  so  banish  the  *  root  of  all  evil '  from 
the  State,  was  typical  of  their  methods.  In  like 
manner  they  ensured  the  integrity  of  their  officials 
by  the  simple  expedient  of  an  empty  treasury.  But 
not  even  by  such  discipline  will  the  human  being 
be  made  perfect,  and  Nature,  soon  or  late,  will  out. 
The  tiger's  taste  for  blood  may  be  starved,  but  it 
cannot  be  eliminated.  Once  the  old  environment 
is  left  behind,  the  old  conventions  and  restraints 
removed,  the  lust  returns  the  stronger.  So  with 
the  Spartan  :  after  an  excursion  into  the  outer  world 
you  might  detect  even  in  him  a  smug  self-satisfac- 
tion :  and  if  you  know  the  way  about  his  house, 
somewhere  above  the  rafters  you  will  find  a  hoard 
of  money  that,  curiously  enough,  is  neither  bars  nor 


iron. 


Alkibiades,  we  may  be  sure,  found  them  dull  dogs. 
For  a  day  or  two,  maybe,  he  was  diverted  by  the  airs 


SPARTA 


267 


they  gave  themselves,  but  he  very  soon  grew  weary 
of  their  everlasting  cant.  They  were  constantly 
boasting,  like  self-satisfied  Puritans,  of  their  contempt 
of  pleasure.  Whatever  Alkibiades  specially  wanted 
was  declared  illegal  :  *  Lykurgos  had  forbidden  it,' 
was  the  invariable  answer  to  his  protests.  Indeed 
it  seemed  a  man's  body  was  scarcely  his  own  at  Sparta. 
So  things  went  on,  till  one  evening,  shortly  after  his 
arrival,  thay  had  asked  him  for  a  song,  and  a  harp 
had  been  brought  out,  but  since  it  was  an  old- 
fashioned  affair  with  only  seven  strings,  Alkibiades 
would  have  none  of  it,  and  demanded  a  proper 
instrument  with  its  full  complement  of  sheep-gut. 
He  was  told  that  this  could  not  be  :  Lykurgos  had 
ordained  that  a  harp  should  have  seven  strings  and 
there  was  an  end  of  it.  Alkibiades  was  bursting  to 
speak  his  thoughts  about  their  Lawgiver  and  shock 
these  narrow-minded  slaves  of  dull  convention. 
But  having  no  desire  to  risk  his  precious  neck,  he 
held  liis  tongue,  yawned  in  disgust,  and  presently 
— an  unpardonable  breach  of  manners — fell  sound 
asleep  at  table.  There  was  no  understanding  a 
folk  of  this  sort. 

The  next  thing  he  knew  he  was  alone,  and  an  old 
man  of  immense  age  and  portentous  gravity  was 
beckoning  him  to  the  door. 

'  Young  man,'  said  the  stranger,  who  was  blind  of 
one  eye,  '  you  marvel  at  my  countrymen.  They 
are  in  sooth  not  as  the  men  of  other  lands.  If  you 
would  know  why  they  are  thus,  I  will  show  you. 
Come.' 

As  they  quitted  the  hall,  they  saw  ahead  of  them 
a  troop  of  boys  going  down  the  road.  ^  Listen,' 
said  the  old  man  as  they  followed  in  the  same 


268 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


direction.  *  I  am  a  man  of  few  words,  but  hear  me. 
Would  you  know  the  man  ?  Then  mark  the  boy. 
The  son  of  a  Spartan  is  silent,  but  he  is  tough.  We 
do  not  love  your  young  Attic  crickets.  From  his 
seventh  year  he  quits  his  mother  and  knows  no 
home  ;  that  year  he  joins  his  *  troop  '  ;  he  lives 
always  with  his  mates.  The  Eiren  ^  watches  him, 
the  Master  schools  him  ;  but  none  of  your  books 
and  figures  here.  Two  lessons  he  learns,  to  obey 
and  to  endure.  It  is  a  rough  life  :  the  river  is  his 
bath,  reeds  and  thistle-down  his  bed  :  one  cloth 
shields  him  in  sun  and  rain  :  he  goes  often  naked  in 
the  snow.  There  is  scant  fare  at  the  club  dinner. 
If  more  is  needed,  there  are  the  farms.  But  he  will 
suffer  for  his  clumsy  thieving  if  he  is  caught ;  also 
if  he  brings  back  nothing  they  bite  his  hand.  It  is 
a  hard  life  :  but  it  makes  men.' 

As  he  was  speaking  they  had  followed  the  boys 
into  a  Temple  close  :  this  enclosure  lay  among  the 
olives  close  by  the  bed  of  the  river  :  the  space  was 
thronged  with  people,  intent  upon  some  ceremony. 
*  See  of  what  metal  they  are  made,'  said  the  old 
man  once  more.  And  Alkibiades  saw.  Before  the 
temple  front  was  a  long  structure  like  a  low  stonewall. 
It  was  an  altar  on  which  charred  offerings  were 
smouldering.  Beside  it  stood  a  boy,  naked  and  half 
fainting.  A  priest  in  robes  was  laying  on  the  lash. 
Alkibiades  heard  a  pipe  screaming  :  he  heard  a  ghoul 
of  a  priestess  (she  nursed  a  hideous  wooden  idol  in  her 
arms)  cry  out,  ^  Lay  on  !  Lay  on  !  Why  do  you  hate 
the  blows ;  the  goddess  grows  heavy  to  my  touch,' 
but  he  never  heard  the  boy,  and  presently  the 
victim  swooned.    A  second  and  a  third  took  his  place 

1  A  sort  of  prefect,  and  an  integral  part  of  the  system. 


SPARTA 


269 


at  the  altar,  till  all  had  received  tlie  scourging. 
Each  bore  to  the  uttermost  of  his  strength  this 
barbarous  ordeal, ^  and  they  were  proclaiming  victor 
the  boy  who  had  borne  it  best,  when  Alkibiades' 
guide  again  said,  '  Come.' 

This  time  they  arrived  at  another  suburb  of  the 
town,  where  was  a  plot  of  ground  thickly  planted 
with  plane-trees.  A  stream  had  been  diverted  and 
the  plot  turned  into  an  island.  Two  bridges  had 
been  thrown  across  the  stream  on  opposite  sides  of 
the  ground,  and  now  at  either  bridge  a  band  of 
youths  was  gathered.  '  This,'  began  the  old  man 
once  more,  '  is  no  chance  meeting  that  we  witness, 
but  a  fight  of  note.  The  teams  are  picked  lads. 
Last  night  they  did  sacrifice.  Follow  the  road  that 
leads  to  Tegea,  and  you  come  to  a  shrine  by  that 
road.  It  was  opened  last  night,  but  at  no  time  else. 
Also  to  the  god  of  war  they  offered  a  puppy  :  a  black 
female,  if  I  remember  right.     Now  look  !  ' 

As  he  was  speaking  the  two  teams  began  to  advance 
across  the  bridges,  and  at  a  sudden  signal  they 
launched  themselves  in  a  combined  rush  upon  their 
opponents,  whom  they  strove  by  fair  means  or  foul, 
kicking,  biting,  fisting,  scratching,  to  drive  or  pitch 
into  the  moat. 

All  the  while  that  the  naked  figures  went  darting 
in  and  out  among  the  tree  trunks,  the  red-cloaked 
men  stood  on  the  banks,  noting  this  boy  and  that  : 
they  were  watching  the  soldier  in  the  making. 

Before  the  fight  was  finished  his  guide  led  Alki- 
biades away,  and  this  time  he  took  him  high  up 

*  This  ordeal,  which  took  place  in  the  precinct  of  Artemis  Orthia, 
and  which  was  probably  a  survival  or  substitute  of  human  sacrifice,  was 
voluntarily  undergone.  The  victor,  called  the  Altar  victor,  was 
rewarded  with  a  sickle. 


270        THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

among  the  foothills  of   Taygetos,  where   a   steep 
mountain   track  leads   over   the   rocky   pass   into 
Messenia.     A  young  Spartan  stood  against  a  rock 
hiding.     Presently  a  man  came  down  the  ravine. 
He  was  driving  a  mule  laden  with  farm  produce 
and  he  did  not  see  the  Spartan.     As  he  passed,  the 
youth  drew  a  dirk  from  under  his  armpit  and  killed 
him  at  a  blow.     '  So,'  said  the  stranger,  '  the  boy 
grows  to  a  man  :  he  is  eighteen  and  for  two  years, 
more  or  less,  he  serves.     It  is  the  Secret  Quest.^ 
He  will  go  southwards  to  Methone  and  the  sea  ; 
he  will  go  west  among  the  valleys  of  the  moun- 
tain   and   through    the   Messenian    plain    beyond. 
Wherever  he  comes,  he  seeks  and  he  kills  :  in  search 
keen  as  a  dog,  in  killing  swift  and  silent  as  a  hawk. 
Whichever  of  the  enemy  is  sly,  stubborn  or  strong, 
he  will  die  :   only  the  weak  may  live.      The  enemy 
— if  you  would  know — is  the  serf.     Now  you  have 
all.     You  know  why  we  are  not  as  other  men ; 
why  we  possess  the  land,   but  not  its  pleasures. 
It  is  not  our  own.     WTien  our  fathers  came  out  of 
the  North  and  conquered  it,  they  left  a  semblance  of 
freedom  to  the  men  that  dwell  in  towns,  cobblers, 
smiths,  weavers  and  suchlike,  but  of  the  country- 
folk  they   made  utter  slaves.'  ^    '  See,'  they   said, 
'  the  land  is  fat ;    for  us  these  shall  sow  and  for  us 
they  shall   reap.'      So   they   turned    to    ease   and 
pleasure.     They  made  merry,  crying  '  peace  '  when 
there  was  none.     They  were  blinded  of  heaven. 
But  to  me  the  God  gave  sight,  and  at  my  word  they 

1  Krypteia. 

•  The  conquest  of  both  the  Perloeki  and  the  Helot  peasantry  was,  of 
course,  a  long  and  gradual  process.  The  Greek  mind  would  naturally 
represent  it  as  a  single  act. 


SPARTA 


271 


left  their  vain  ways,  and  I  made  for  them  new  laws. 
Have  j^ou  not  seen  ?  Their  Hfe  is  ceaseless  toil, 
their  youth  they  spend  in  the  expectation,  their 
manhood  in  the  exercise  of  war.  They  prefer 
duty  before  pleasure,  they  choose  law  rather  than 
liberty.  Nor  is  it  in  vain.  The  enemy  are  many, 
we  are  few.^  Yet  with  us  lies  the  mastery,  and 
will  lie  so  long  as  there  is  honour  for  the  laws,  the 
laws  of  me,  Lykurgos.' 

With  that  the  bearded  stranger  vanished,  and 
Alkibiades  awaking  found  himself  alone.  Day  was 
faintly  dawning  and,  as  he  pondered  over  his 
visitor's  strange  words,  he  saw  a  group  of  strangers 
pass^  the  door.  They  were  certain  envoys  from 
Corinth  and  Syracuse,  whom  he  had  joined  at  the 
Isthmus,  and  with  whom  he  had  journeyed  down 
to  Sparta.  They  came  thither  to  appeal  for  assist- 
ance against  the  Athenian  army  then  in  Sicily. 
For  religious  reasons,  however,  their  audience  at 
Sparta  had  been  postponed,  a  festival  standing  in 
the  way  of  political  transactions.  Now  at  last  the 
day  for  discussion  had  arrived,  and  the  assembly 
was  to  meet  at  dawn.  Alkibiades  therefore  rose 
and  passed  out  in  haste  to  the  market  square. 
He  found  it  already  empty.  There  was  no  one  but 
a  hunter  starting  for  the  hills,  and  holding  in  leash 
a  hound,  more  fox  than  dog ;  under  a  doorway  a 
Helot  bickering  with  a  hot-tempered  dame  :  he 
swearing  that  the  crop  of  beans  had  failed,  she  that 
he  had  brought  less  than  his  due  proportion.^ 
The  Athenian  left  them  squabbling  and  turned 
down  the  long  straggling  street  that  led  to  the  river. 

*  The  Helots  outnumbered  the  Spartans  by  fifty  to  one. 
«  A  Helot  owed  one  half  of  the  produce  to  his  master. 


272         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

The  township  was  no  more  than  a  large  rambling 
village,  meanly  built  and  badly  kept,  like  a  town  of 
the  very  poor  ;   it  was,  as  they  were  never  tired  of 
boasting,  utterly  without  walls  or  defensive  works 
(in  truth,  with  the  '  enemy  '  coming  and  going  in 
the  city  every  day,  much  use  would  walls  have  been), 
nor  was  there  a  single  building  conspicuous  for  beauty 
or  dimensions.     The  most  remarkable  perhaps  was 
the  Temple  of  Athena.     It  stood  on  a  hill  which, 
though  a  mere  mound,  bore  the  title  of  Akropohs, 
but  the  queer  thing  was  that  the  Temple  was  com- 
pletely cased,  like  a  man  in  armour,  with  solid  bronze 
plates.      It  was  in  this  '  brazen  house     that  Pau- 
Tanias  the  king  had  met  his  end.     Accused  of  high 
treason,  he  had  taken  sanctuary  inside    when  the 
maRistrates  ordered  the  doors  to  be  blocked  and 
the  king  was  left  to  starve.     So  had  Sparta  served 
the    victor    of    Plataea.     ^  And    so    would    Athens 
have  served  me,'  thought  Alkibiades  as  he  went  by 
that  way;    and  as  he  entered  the  Assembly,  he 
vowed   that   very  morning  to   satisfy  the  restless 

craving  for  revenge.  .j  ^i    •     ..„ 

When  therefore  the  envoys  had  said  their  say, 
he  begged  leave  to  address  the  people.  He  knew 
it  would  be  no  easy  matter  to  win  a  hearing,  and 
he  set  about  to  prove  that  Athens  was  his  enemy 
no  less  than  theirs.  But,  for  all  he  might  say  it 
was  clear  they  were  stiU  suspicious.  He  theretore 
played  his  second  card.  He  described  the  ambmons 
of  Athens,  her  schemes  of  conquest  in  the  West 
predicting  by  a  strong  exaggeration  how  they  would 
annex  Libya,  would  pass  the  Pillars  o  Herakles, 
and  possess  the  utmost  limits  of  the  world,  bparta 
would  be  crushed  Uke  a  toad  beneath  a  plough. 


SPARTA 


273 


At  this  the  Assembly  quailed  visibly.  They  were 
ripe  for  his  advice  now,  and  he  gave  it— send  a  man 
to  Syracuse,  build  a  fort  on  Attic  soil.  Then  the 
vote  for  war  or  peace  was  put.  The  war-party 
gave  a  loud  shout  :  their  opponents  followed  with 
still  a  louder,  and  the  meeting  broke  up  in  eager 
discussion  whether  '  ayes '  or  '  noes '  had  it. 

This  was  a  matter  of  merely  academic  interest, 
for  the  final  decision  lay  with  the  eight-and-twenty 
elders,  who  now  retired  to  their  council  chamber 
and  there  proceeded  to  over-ride  the  sense  of  the 
Assembly,  browbeat  the  kings,  put  even  the  ephors 
in  their  place,  and  pronounce  decisively  for  war. 

And  for  war  the  time  was  ripe.  The  spring  was 
even  now  breaking,  the  snow  was  off  the  passes,  and 
at  the  New  Moon,  when  the  ephors  issued  their 
monthly  edict  calling  on  all  good  Spartans  to  shave 
their  moustaches  and  obey  the  law,  they  added  to 
it  an  order  for  the  preparations  of  the  march. 
Then  in  truth  the  Spartan  took  on,  as  it  were,  a 
sudden  glory.  He  stood  taller  under  his  shield  by 
an  inch  at  the  very  least,  and  though  grave  to  all 
appearance,  his  heart  within  him  sang.  Yet  the 
town  was  unperturbed  as  ever.  At  Athens  there 
would  have  been  much  running  to  and  fro,  burnish- 
ing of  shields  and  whetting  of  spear-points.  At 
Sparta  mobilisation  was  like  going  on  parade  ;  a 
thing  they  did  each  morning  of  their  lives.  If  they 
showed  their  feelings,  it  was  only  by  an  added  curt- 
ness  in  their  speech,  or  a  grimmer  turn  to  their  wit. 
One  humorist  had  painted  upon  his  shield,  not  the 
customary  A  which  stood  for  Lakedaemon,  but 
the  diminutive  figure  of  a  mouse.  His  friends 
protested  it  would  not  be  seen  from  afar  on  the 


274        THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

field  of  battle.     *  Wha 'U  fecht  wi'  me,'  was  the 
retort,  '  will  blink  it  near  enow.' 

Nor  was  there,  as  it  happened,  any  need  for 
hurried  preparations.  The  Hyakinthia  was  due,  and 
during  the  feast,  which  would  occupy  some  days, 
the  start  could  not  be  made.  But  the  religious 
ceremonies  will  presently  be  over,  and  then  away 
they  will  go,  a  dense  and  formidable  troop,  accurate 
in  drill,  moving  as  one  man  ;  and  behind  them  a 
large  but  looser  company  of  Helots,  also  under  arms, 
who  wiU  act  as  bodyservants,  carrying  their  masters' 
shields  upon  the  march,  and  arranging  the  bivouacs 
at  night.  Across  the  bridge  of  the  Eurotas  and  up 
through  the  hills  northward  they  will  march, 
singing  some  chant  of  old  Tyrtaios,  or  perhaps  that 
famous  chorus  used  at  the  festival : 

0/d  men.  Lusty  chiels  were  we  lang  syne. 
Men  oj  middle  age.  Sic  be  we  before  your  cyne. 
Youths.  Braver  blood  sail  yet  be  mine. 

So  they  march  away,  and  at  the  end  of  a  long 
day's  marching  they  will  trace  a  circle  upon  some 
level  spot,  and  pitch  their  camp  within  it,  the 
king's  tent  being  erected  at  the  centre. 

The  king  too,  like  the  rank  and  file,  has  found  his 
true  self  with  the  stir  and  the  presentiment  of  war. 
Once  away  from  Sparta,  he  is  no  longer  a  puppet- 
prince,  a  figure-head  receiving  as  a  regal  privilege 
a  double  portion  of  daily  victuals.  On  campaign, 
at  least,  he  is  lord  of  creation.  But  though  his 
powers  are  unlimited,  he  is  even  now  hardly  out  of 
reach  of  mischievous  interference;  the  ephors 
have  their  spies  among  his  very  guard,  and  at  any 
moment  may  bring  a  fresh  despatch  from  home— 


SPARTA 


27s 


queer  scratches  on  a  parchment,  the  key  to  which, 
and  the  only  key,  is  a  wooden  roller  of  a  particular 
pattern.  On  this  roller  the  parchment  was  wound 
before  the  despatch  was  written,  and  upon  it  the 
parchment  must  again  be  rolled  before  the  words 
can  be  deciphered.  Of  this  roller  both  king  and 
ephor  possess  duplicates.  It  was  a  wise  king  that 
left  his  duplicate  at  home. 

A  third  day's  march  will  bring  them  across  the 
Argive  frontier,  and  now  their  only  thought  will 
be,  not  what  force  the  enemy  can  muster,  but  where 
he  may  be  found  and  fought.  The  two  armies  will 
camp  face  to  face,  and  on  the  morrow  the  sacrifice 
will  be  offered,  the  pipes  strike  up,  the  quickstep 
given,  the  charge  delivered— and,  after  one  sharp 
moment  of  conflict,  the  enemy  will  have  been  swept, 
like  chaff,  from  off  the  face  of  the  plain,  and  one  more 
triumph  will  have  been  won  by  the  seasoned  troops 
of  Sparta  over  her  neighbour's  miscellaneous  levy. 

That  battle  never  took  place.  The  Spartans  met 
an  earthquake  on  the  way,  and,  like  the  pious  men 
they  were,  turned  instantly  back  for  Lakedaemon. 

Upon  his  return  from  war,  if  on  no  other  occasion, 
the  warrior  would  perhaps  unbend  and  shyly  indulge 
some  secret  tenderness  for  home.  He  might  even 
offer— -though  I  doubt  it— to  give  his  wife  a  kiss  : 
it  is  certain  he  would  be  scolded  for  his  weakness,  for 
the  womenfolk  of  Sparta  could  not  tolerate  a  hus- 
band who  did  not  play  the  man.  The  housewife 
was  not  a  person  lightly  to  be  crossed.  Taught,  like 
Plato's  monstrous '  regiment '  of  women,  to  run  and 
wrestle  in  the  open  field,  she  was  no  shy,  ignorant, 
indoor  creature  such  as  her  Attic  cousin  was.  In 
her  own  home  she  was  very  much  the  mistress  and 


276        THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

would  stand  no  meddling  from  the  man.  She  was 
austere  even  to  hardness,  and  if  her  own  son  played 
the  coward,  she  would  call  curses  on  the  traitor 
out  in  the  pubUc  street :  if  he  fell  m  battle  with 
wounds  upon  his  back,  it  would  be,  '  Och,  nae  son 
o'  mine  that,'  and  never  a  tear  in  her  eye. 

But  shrews  as  they  often  were,  these  ladies  had 
a  fine  cast  of  feature  and  a  very  noble  bearing; 
their  charms  soon  took  the  young  Athenian  captive 
—and  it  was  the  pleasure  which  he  found  in  their 
society  that  brought  his  stay  in  Sparta  to  an  abrupt 

conclusion.  .    ,  „  j     i      i      *„ 

He  was  just  learning,  painfully  and  slowly,  to 
take  his  part  among  the  men  ;    he  had  ceased  to 
take  offence  at  their  inciviUty  or  to  resent  the 
♦  borrowing '  of  his  personal  possessions ;      he  was 
even  accustoming  himself  to  shout  outside  a  door 
instead  of  knocking,  as  he  was  wont  to  do  at  home  ; 
aU  in  fact  was  going  well,  when  he  aroused  the 
jealousy  of  King  Agis.     '  I  doot,'  said  his  Majesty, 
'yon  callant  has  been  makin'   e'en  at  my  wife. 
The  culprit  pleaded  that  he  had  meant  but  common 
politeness.     It  was  all  in  vain,  and  when  he  took 
an  injured  tone,  declaring  Spartans  did  not  know 
what  good  manners  were,  the  retort  was  ready. 
'  Aye  we  are  the  ae  folk  has  no  learned  yon  Attic 
tricksies.'     He  had  no  choice  but  to  go  ;   one  way 
alone  lay  open  and  he  went  to  the  East,  and  to 
Persia,  the  old  enemy  of  Greece. 

1  The  Spartan  code  of  morals  did  not  recognise  the  distinction  of 
•  meum '  and  '  tuum.' 


XX.  A  TRIAL  BY  JURY  ^ 

t  *  In  Athens  wise  men  plead  cases — fools  decide  them.* 

(Saying  of  Anacharsis  the  Scythian.) 

Alkibiades  the  younger,  so  far  from  adding  lustre 
to  the  name  he  bore,  dragged  it  sadly  in  the  dust. 
His  father,  even  when  he  broke  the  law  like  a  reck- 
less boy,  could  at  least  defy  it  afterwards  like  a  man. 
But  the  son  had  never  the  spirit  to  do  either. 
Having  first  played  the  defaulter  upon  active 
service  without  incurring  the  technical  guilt  of 
running  away,  he  then  at  the  close  of  the  campaign, 
when  a  summons  was  threatened  for  desertion, 
must  needs  play  the  coward  a  second  time,  and 
skulk  within  his  own  house  walls.  For  a  time  in- 
deed he  was  thus  able  to  defeat  the  object  of  his 
accuser,  who,  though  permitted  to  sit  all  day  upon 
his  victim's  doorstep,  was  forbidden  by  law  to  force 
an  entrance  to  the  house,  but  Archestratides  had 
patience,  and  soon  enough  his  opportunity  came. 
Alkibiades,  being  not  only  a  knave  but  a  fool,  ventured 
out  one  evening  to  dine  with  that  notorious  black- 
guard Archedemos.  The  watchful  enemy  waylaid 
him  in  the  street,  and  there  and  then  did  summon 
him  to  appear  in  five  days'  time  before  the  magis- 
trate.    To  make  assurance  doubly  sure,  two  friends 

*  The  ridiculous  side  of  these  processes-at-law  are  doubtless  somewhat 
exaggerated  in  what  follows.  The  picture  which  Aristophanes  gives 
of  Athenian  juries  (and  upon  Aristophanes  this  sketch  is  partly  based) 
must  naturally  correspond  to  Dickens's  parody  of  English  legal  methods. 

277 


m 


278         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

were  fetched  out  of  a  neighbouring  bath-house  to 
bear  witness  to  the  summons. 

Now  this  Archestratides  was  not,  as  might  be 
fancied,  a  salaried  official  with  cap,  badge  and 
baton.  He  was  a  plain,  undistinguished  citizen, 
and  he  was  only  exercising  in  this  matter  a  common 
legal  privilege.  For  criminal  prosecution,  like  much 
else  at  Athens,  was  left  to  private  enterprise.  If  a 
law  were  evaded  or  a  magistrate  took  a  bribe,  there 
was  invariably  some  one  ready  to  come  forward 
and  denounce  him.  Too  ready  it  seemed  to  some  ; 
for  there  sprang  up  in  Athens  a  class  of  human 
jackals  who  made  it  their  business  to  inform  against 
honest  men,  and  lived  upon  the  pickings  of  such 
processes.  These  amateur  detectives  drove  at  this 
time  a  prosperous  trade :  for  all  democracies  are 
by  nature  suspicious,  and  the  Athenians,  jealous  of 
their  judicial  privilege,  and  doubly  jealous  of  their 
juror's  pay,  had  a  taste  for  Htigation  and  lent  a 
ready  ear  to  such  '  sycophants.'  ^ 

In  the  case  of  which  we  speak,  however,  the  motive 
was  neither  private  gain  nor  public  spirit.  Truth  to 
tell,  Archestratides  was  acting  to  gratify  a  grudge. 
There  was  an  old  feud  between  his  house  and  that  of 
Alkibiades,  and  he  had  been  long  biding  his  time 
before  the  occasion  came. 

The  circumstances  of  the  occasion  were  these. 
Sparta,  who  throughout  the  war  had  posed  as  the 
champion  of  Hellenic  liberties,  proceeded  upon  the 
fall  of  Athens  to  give  the  allies  a  taste  of  uncom- 
promising tyranny.     As   a   consequence,   she  very 

*  *  Sycophant '  was  properly  the  name  given  to  these  public  informers. 
The  origin  of  the  name  is  thought  by  some  to  have  been  connected 
with  the  detection  of  smuggled  figs. 


A  TRIAL  BY  JURY 


279 


soon  had  s^t  all  Greece  by  the  ears,  and  the  first 
state  to  take  up  the  challenge  was  Thebes.    Thebes 
was  the  traditional  enemy  of  Athens,  but  in  their 
hurry  to  take  revenge  on  Sparta,  the  Athenians 
forgot  their  ancient  quarrel  and  in  an  optimistic 
mood  concluded  a  treaty  of  alliance  with  their  old 
enemy  '  for  ever  and  ever.'     Before  however  they 
could  put  their  forces  in  the  field,  Boeotia  was 
invaded   by   two   Spartan   armies.     One   of   these, 
commanded  by  Lysander,  was  surprised  under  the 
very  walls  of  HaUartos,  and  was  heavily  defeated, 
leaving  the  commander  dead  on  the  battle-ground. 
The  second  army  under  Pausanias  presently  arrived 
and  set  about  bargaining  for  the  dead  body.      So 
when  the  Athenians  also  appeared  on  the  scene,  they 
found  that  Lysander's  body  was  to  be  granted  to  the 
Spartans,  upon  the  single  condition  that  they  should 
instantly  evacuate  Boeotian  territory.  Thus,  as  things 
turned  out,  the  Athenians  were  forced  to  march 
their  forces  home  again  without  a  fight,  an  event 
highly  satisfactory  to  all  but  Alkibiades  the  younger. 
He  had  been  '  pricked '  to  serve  among  the  heavy 
infantry,  but  he  had  preferred  to  come  out  among 
the  horse.      This  preference  might  easily  be  con- 
strued by  an  ill-wisher  into  a  confession  of  cowardice, 
since  the  horse  ran  a  distinctly  smaller  risk  than  the 
foot.     The  case  against  him  was  further  strengthened 
by  the  discovery  that  he  had  never  properly  qualified 
to  serve  among  the  cavalry.     Here  then  was  Arches- 
tratides' chance,  and  he  took  it. 

Five  days  after  the  summons  had  been  served, 
the  two  met  in  the  presence  of  the  Marshal.^    As 

1  The  Strategoi,  ten  in  number,  filled  many  functions  beside  those  of 
military  command,  hence  General  is  a  title  that  gives  a  false  connotation. 


28o 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


r 


a  military  offence,  the  case  came  under  the  juris- 
diction of  this  magistrate  :  notwithstanding  that, 
as  a  criminal  process,  it  would  eventually  be  decided 
in  the  public  courts.  The  Marshal  accordingly 
received  the  application,  took  the  prosecutor's 
cautionary  fee,  and  bound  over  both  parties  to 
appear  on  a  day  which  he  fixed  for  the  preliminary 
hearing.  The  Writ  (ypd(l>rj),  as  they  termed  it, 
was  made  out,  and  that  evening  there  appeared  on 
a  whitened  board  near  the  market-place,  the 
inscription  *  Archestratides  versus  Alkibiades  for 
Desertion.' 

In  due  course  the  two  appeared  once  more  in  the 
Marshal's  presence  :  and  this  time  things  were 
meant  to  begin  in  real  earnest.  The  clerk  accordingly 
spread  a  parchment  on  his  knees  and  prepared  to 
take  a  proces-verbal  of  the  evidence,  while  the 
Marshal,  for  his  part,  settled  down  to  a  nap  in  his 
comfortable  chair.  First  of  all,  the  complainant 
took  an  oath  by  every  god  and  goddess  imaginable, 
declaring  that  his  cause  was  just,  and  praying  that 
he  and  his  family  might  perish  miserably  if  his  oath 
proved  false.  Then  the  accused  swore  a  precisely 
identical  oath,  attesting  the  justice  of  his  cause, 
and  might  he  and  his  family  perish  miserably  if  his 
oath  were  false.  Were  the  gods  attentive  to  their 
business  upon  earth,  it  is  a  melancholy  reflection 
that  every  lawsuit  must  by  rights  have  blasted  the 
lives  of  at  least  one  family  in  Athens.  Having  thus 
cleared  the  ground,  and  incidentally  exposed  them- 
selves to  an  action  for  perjury,  the  pair  then  passed 
to  the  production  of  evidence.  Before  proceeding 
further,  however,  it  was  open  to  Alkibiades,  had  he 
so  wished,  to  raise  legal  objections  showing  cause 


A  TRIAL  BY  JURY 


281 


why  the  case  should  not  proceed  ;  as,  for  instance, 
that  his  opponent  was  not  competent  to  bring  the 
charge  at  all,  being,  as  he,  Alkibiades,  was  prepared 
to  prove,  an  aUen  and  no  true  citizen.  Or  he 
might  submit  that  the  question  did  not  properly 
fall  under  the  Marshal's  jurisdiction  :  nor  would 
that  ofiicial  have  been  sorry  perhaps  to  get  rid 
of  a  tiresome  piece  of  Htigation  so  early  in  the 
day.  The  decision  of  these  points  would  in  any  case 
have  to  go  before  a  jury  :  but  they  would  serve  at 
least  to  delay  the  bringing  of  the  main  action,  and 
the  defendant  would  benefit  to  that  extent.  Or 
again — and  although  this  final  method  would  involve 
two  simultaneous  trials  instead  of  one,  it  was  the 
most  gratifying  of  all — ^he  might  rebut  upon  his 
adversary  the  charge  levelled  against  himself.  Alki- 
biades, however,  either  from  inability  or  from 
negligence,  attempted  none  of  these  temporising 
tactics.  He  evidently  relied  on  cajoling  the  jury, 
when  the  time  arrived.  For  such  evidence  as  he 
did  produce  was  of  Uttle  account.  He  even  neglected 
to  score  an  obvious  point  by  offering  his  slaves  as 
witnesses ;  for  by  an  odd  and  inhuman  practice, 
the  evidence  of  these  unfortunates  might  be  taken 
under  torture.  Perhaps  he  felt  it  doubtful  what 
they  might  reveal.  In  any  case,  Alkibiades' 
evidence  was  soon  taken,  and  Archestratides  was 
called  to  present  his.  He  had  come  fully  armed. 
He  brought  with  him  two  burghers  who  had 
served  in  the  campaign  and  were  ready  to  swear 
that  they  had  missed  Alkibiades  from  the  ranks. 
A  third  swore  to  having  seen  him  in  a  cavalry 
cloak.  The  clerk  meanwhile  scratched  away 
at  his  parchment,  taking   down  the  substance  of 


282         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

their  deposition.  Next  Archestratides  produced 
from  under  his  cloak  a  lengthy  scroll,  which  he 
unrolled  with  some  pride,  and  disclosed  a  copy  of 
the  Cavalry  List — the  names,  that  is,  of  all  who  had 
qualified  as  '  Knights.'  Alkibiades'  name  was  not 
among  them,  for  though  accepted  by  the  Marshals, 
it  appeared  that  he  had  never  secured  the  approval 
of  his  tribal  officer.  Finally  Archestratides  put 
forward  a  tablet  of  wood  on  which  was  scratched 
a  copy,  carefully  made  from  the  Archives,  of  the 
law  concerning  Desertion.  These  documents,  to- 
gether with  the  clerk's  proces-verbal,  were  put  in  a 
metal  box.  The  Marshal  woke  up  in  his  chair,  set 
his  seal  to  the  box,  and  dismissed  the  two  men  for 
the  time  being.  The  first  or  preHminary  hearing 
was  over.  The  case  was  now  ready  for  the  second. 
This  was  Trial  by  Jury  ;  for  in  all  cases  the  court  of 
the  Sovereign  People  was  the  final  arbiter  of  Justice. 

Accordingly,  one  month  after  the  first  posting  of 
the  '  writ,'  the  case  comes  up  for  trial.  In  the 
interval  both  parties  were  kept  busy.  There  were 
speeches  to  prepare.  These  were,  in  most  cases, 
drafted  by  professional  speech-writers,  and  the 
parties  then  got  them  by  heart.  For,  by  a  legal 
fiction,  the  principle  of  '  every  man  his  own  advo- 
cate '  was  the  rule  of  the  Athenian  courts. 

Although  it  was  winter  time,  the  courts  sat  at 
daybreak  ;  and  in  the  dark  hours  of  a  chilly  December 
morning  the  jurymen  might  have  been  seen  hurrying 
to  the  market-place  by  hundreds.  All  of  them 
were  past  thirty  years  of  age,  and  many  were 
infirm  old  men,  complaining  of  their  chilblains  and 
.  cursing  the  bitter  cold;  others,  more  youthful, 
were    hungry  ne'er-do-wells,  who  hugged   them- 


A  TRIAL  BY  JURY 


^83 


selves  closely  in  their  threadbare  wraps.  The  juries 
were,  in  a  word,  composed  either  of  those  who  were 
past  work  or  of  those  who  preferred  the  jury- 
man's pittance  to  an  honest  job — they  were  the 
Unemployables  and  Old  Age  Pensioners  of  Athens. 
All  of  them  would  be  well  content  to  sit  the  whole 
day  and  draw  three  obols  for  their  pains.  But  it 
is  not  as  yet  so  certain  that  all  will  be  wanted.  In 
fact,  it  is  an  anxious  moment  for  many,  when  they 
approach  the  office.  Each  carries  a  badge  bearing 
a  letter  of  the  alphabet.  This  letter  has  reference 
to  the  panel  to  which  he  was  originally  assigned 
when  he  applied  to  serve  on  juries  and  first  took 
the  juror's  oath.  One  fellow  now  presents  an 
Alpha  badge.  Panel  Alpha  is  occupying  the 
'  Scarlet  Court '  :  and  he  is  given  a  red  staff  and 
told  to  join  his  fellow-jurors  there.  A  second 
who  produces  a  Gamma  is  told  that  the  Court 
which  his  panel  should  occupy  has  no  cases  to  try 
to-day  :  so  he  is  sent  empty  away.  A  similar  fate 
befalls  a  third  whose  letter  happens  to  be  Delta. 
The  E>elta  panel  are  sitting  in  the  *  Greater  Court,' 
but  the  jury  is  only  to  number  201  :  and  201 
*  early  birds '  having  already  appeared,  no  more 
need  apply.  The  late-comer  has  himself  alone  to 
blame.,  for  the  morning  is  now  well  advanced,  the 
signals  are  already  hoisted  over  the  courts ;  the 
Scythian  policemen  are  bustling  about  the  entrance ; 
the  Court  Crier  announces  that  if  there  be  any 
juror  yet  at  the  door,  he  should  enter  and  be  quick 
about  it.  The  benches  are  filled,  the  jurymen's 
wicket  ^  is  closed,  and  the  sitting  begins.     Mean- 

*  The  jury-box  was  divided  by  a  railing  from  that  part  of  the  court 
to  which  the  public  were  admitted. 


284        THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

while  others  besides  disappointed  jurors  are  to  be 
seen  hanging  about  in  the  purUeus  of  the  market. 
These  are  the  plaintiffs  and  defendants,  waiting 
for  the  opening  of  the  courts  accompanied  by  their 
kinsfolk  and  supporters.  One  man  is  shepherding 
a  bevy  of  miserable  children  clothed  in  filthy  rags, 
and  to  all  appearance  in  an  extremity  of  destitution 
and  despair.  At  the  right  moment  our  provident 
friend  will  bring  them  forward  in  court  and  appeal 
to  the  jury's  tender  feehngs  on  the  ground  that  he 
is  a  family  man.  The  best  of  it  is  that  they  are  his 
nephews  and  not  his  sons,  for,  though  the  jury  may 
not  know  it,  he  was  never  married. 

About  the  hour  when  the  market  begins  to  fill, 
a  considerable  crowd  has  gathered  round  the  doors 
of  the  court  which  goes  by  the  name  of  Frog-green. 
Up  till  now  it  has  been  engaged  upon  a  tiresome 
quarrel  over  a  plot  of  debatable  ground  which  the 
litigants,  according  to  their  respective  claims,  have 
variously  described  as  a  road,  a  water-course,  and  a 
garden  !  It  is  a  nice  point  for  decision,  but  when  it 
is  once  decided,  the  Frog-green  doors  are  again 
thrown  Qpen  and  the  case  of  Archestratides  versus 
Alkibiades  comes  on.  The  crowd  which  has  as- 
sembled enters.  The  jurors,  who  have  been  specially 
selected  for  the  case  (they  are  all  men  who  took 
part  in  the  campaign  in  question),  number  no  less 
than  501,  the  odd  man  being  added  to  preclude  a 
tie  in  the  voting.  Their  place  is  upon  the  benches 
at  one  side  :  while  the  Marshals,  as  presidents  of 
the  court,  sit  upon  carved  thrones.  Behind  these  is 
set  a  statue  of  the  god  of  Justice  (presented  in  the 
likeness  of  a  wolf),  while  to  right  and  left  of  the 
central   altar   are   the  two   enormous   voting-jars. 


A  TRIAL  BY  JURY 


285 


There  are  platforms  for  the  witnesses  and  speakers. 
The  whole  court  is  open  to  the  sky. 

At  a  signal  from  the  chair,  the  Court  Crier  calls 
on  the  two  parties  to  appear,  and  both  come  for- 
ward. This  is  not  surprising,  since  any  defalcation 
would  cost  them  dear  :  the  accused  would  lose  his 
case,  the  accuser  forfeit  a  cool  thousand  drachmae. 
The  Crier  steps  before  them  to  the  altar,  where  he 
offers  some  incense  and  a  prayer.  After  these 
formalities  the  charge  is  read  and  the  accuser  mounts 
the  platform  to  begin  his  speech.  He  is  supposed, 
by  a  legal  convention,  to  be  his  own  pleader,  but 
the  speech,  as  all  the  world  very  well  knows,  is  not 
of  his  own  composition.  The  jurymen  have  all 
this  while  been  chattering  as  merrily  as  crickets, 
and  one  of  them  has  already  spread  the  rumour 
that  the  speech  is  by  the  hand  of  Lysias,  an  immi- 
grant litterateur  from  Syracuse.  This  piece  of 
news  is  eagerly  taken  up  by  the  juryman's  neigh- 
bour, a  prig  who  plumes  himself  upon  a  taste  in 
style,  he  opines  that  in  such  a  case  the  speaker  will 
be  primed  with  a  string  of  periods  as  bald  and  plain 
as  one  of  his  own  Sicily  cheeses.  The  reference  to 
that  island  Sicily  roused  the  quick  resentment  of 
the  third.  His  father  had  died  in  the  quarries  at 
Syracuse,  and  he  laid  the  whole  blame  on  Alkibiades' 
father  and  all  his  mad  schemes  of  conquest  in  the 
West.  He  would  not  acquit  the  son  now,  no,  not 
for  all  the  silphium  in  Cyrene.  He  was  cut  short 
by  the  first  speaker,  who  had  no  such  prejudice. 
It  was  aU  one  to  him  which  party  had  his  vote,  so 
long  as  he  got  a  good  morning's  entertainment  out 
of  the  process.  In  the  last  case  he  served  on,  he 
well  remembered  the  humorous  speech  of  Kres- 


>h 


286         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

phontes  the  actor,  and  the  recitation  from  the 
'  Knights '  to  which  the  jury  had  been  treated  after 
his  acquittal.  If  Alkibiades  supplied  them  now 
with  half  as  good  a  laugh,  the  rogue  should  have  his 
vote,  and  welcome  ! 

'  Let  the  water  run,'  said  the  Marshal,  and  the 
keeper  of  the  water-clock  set  his  instrument  in 
motion.  The  case  must  be  concluded  within  the 
day:    and  therefore  the  speaker's  time  is  strictly 

limited. 

Archestratides  put  forth  his  arguments,  backing 
them  from  time  to  time  with  the  evidence  which 
the  clerk  read  out  from  the  proces-verbal,  taken 
at  the  preUminary  hearing.  As  the  evidence  was 
read,  each  witness  came  up  to  the  altar  and  formally 
swore  to  the  truth  of  his  testimony.  During  this 
procedure  the  water-clock  was  stopped  until  such  a 
time  as  Archestratides  was  ready  to  resume  ;  so  it 
went  on,  and  when  at  length  his  speech  was  ended, 
he  stood  down,  but  the  case  for  the  prosecution 
was  not  yet  closed.  A  near  kinsman  of  his  was  now 
put  up,  primed  also  with  a  speech  (by  the  hand  of 
Lysias  likewise),  which  he  proceeded  to  deliver  in 
his  friend's  support.^ 

'  I  do  not  think,  gentlemen,'  he  said  '  that  you 
will  expect  us  to  explain  why  we  have  brought 
Alkibiades  into  court.  There  is  nothing  in  his 
whole  Career  which  might  incUne  you  to  regard 
him  even  in  his  pubUc  Capacity  (and  all  Private 
Prejudice   apart)    with   any    feeUngs    other    than 

1  Considerable  extracts  from  this  speech  (still  extant)  arc  here  given, 
partly  to  illustrate  the  kind  of  argument  that  *  went  down'  with  an 
Athenian  jury—partly  to  give  some  idea  in  equivalent  English  ot  the 
style  prevalent  among  the  Athenian  speech-makers. 


A  TRIAL  BY  JURY 


287 


Disgu&t.  Nor  are  his  Misdeeds  of  such  a  trivial 
or  venial  Character  as  to  allow  any  expectation  of 
Reform.  His  Depravity  is  so  decisive,  that  many 
of  his  proudest  exploits  would  put  his  very 
detractors  to  the  blush. 

'  But  in  my  case,  gentlemen,  this  is  not  all.  The 
Difference  between  us  goes  back  as  far  as  our  parents ; 
so  that  long  ago  I  have  learned  to  hate  him.  Now, 
however,  that  I  have  a  special  grievance,  I  shall 
with  your  aid  endeavour  to  bring  the  rogue  to  book 
for  all  his  past  Offences. 

'With  the  other  Counts  of  the  Indictment, 
Archestratides  has  already  dealt  in  full.  He  has 
directed  your  attention  upon  the  Law,  and  it 
devolves  on  me  to  instruct  you  in  those  points 
which  he  has  left  untouched. 

*  This  case,  sirs,  is  the  first  of  its  kind  to  come 
before  you  since  the  Declaration  of  the  Peace.  So 
it  is  not  a  simple  verdict  that  you  will  be  passing 
here  ;  but  a  Precedent  you  will  be  laying  down. 
For  you  may  be  very  sure  that  the  country  will 
hereafter  be  guided  by  your  Judgment  in  its 
treatment  of  similar  cases.  Nor  can  I  but  con- 
sider it  the  bounden  Duty  of  an  Honourable 
Citizen,  as  of  an  Upright  Judge,  to  define  the 
Law  having  regard  to  the  future  Interests  of  the 
Community. 

'  It  is  an  argument  with  some  that  no  charge  can 
stand  here  for  Cowardice  or  Desertion,  because  no 
Battle  has  been  fought,  and  that  the  Law  enacts 
that  **  whosoever  shall  be  guilty  of  cowardice  shall 
leave  his  post  and  be  tried  before  the  Marshals." 
But  the  Law  plainly  includes  "  those  also  who  absent 
themselves  from  the  Lines."     Please  read  the  Law.' 


i 


Hi 


288         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

(Law  read  by  the  Clerk  of  the  Court.) 
'  The  Law  and  the  Facts,'  the  speaker  continued, 
*  are  beyond  dispute  :    but  when  they  mount  the 
Platform,    we   shall   have  passionate  Appeals,  they 
protesting  that  Cowardice  is  no  Charge  to  bring 
against  a  man  who  has  Alkibiades  for  father,  as  if 
Alkibiades  had  been  the  Hero  and  not  the  Villain 
of  the  Piece,  whose  timely  Execution  at  the  outset 
of   a    mischievous  Career  would   have   spared   the 
Nation  manifold  disasters.     And   now   despite   all 
that  is  laid  against  his  father's  door,  they  must 
needs  make  a  Virtue  of  his  crimes,  and  talk  about  his 
Power — a  Power  exercised  to  so  ruinous  a  Purpose. 
Why,  what  man  is  there  among  you  so  ill-informed 
of  national  affairs,  but  he  might,  if  he  had  a  mind 
to  it,  instruct  his  country's  enemies  to  the  seizure 
of  Strategic  Points,  discover  to  them  her  neglected 
Frontiers,  or  indicate  which  of  her  Allies  was  ripe 
for  Revolt.      A  strange  Power  this,  which  as  long 
as  his  Exile  lasted  was  capable  for  Harm,  but  which, 
as  soon  as  his  Intrigues  had  brought  him  back  with 
a  Fleet  at  his  command,  was  quite  helpless  either 
to  eject  the  Enemy,  or  to  recover  Chios  (for  the  loss 
of  which  he  was  alone  responsible),  or  indeed  to  do 
you  any  Service  whatsoever.     In  Power  it  is  plain  he 
had  no  monopoly,  in  Crime  he  had  no  Master.  .  .  . 
He  knew  your  weaknesses  well  enough  to  sell  the 
Secret  to  the  enemy,  but  when  his  own  turn  came 
to  take  command  of  your  Forces,  he  was  powerless 
to  retahate.     He  might  promise  you  subsidies  from 
the   King's  Exchequer  :    but  he,  in   fact,  relieved 
you  of  200  talents.     And  lastly  as  a  CHmax  to  his 
Crimes,  he  actually  engaged  with  Adeimantos  in 
the  betrayal  of  your  Fleet  into  Lysander's  power.    If 


A  TRIAL  BY  JURY 


289 


you  still  grieve  for  the  Victims  of  that  Battle,  if 
you  reproach  yourselves  with  the  Fate  of  those 
Prisoners,  if  you  resent  the  Demolition  of  your 
Walls,  if  you  have  not  forgiven  Sparta  nor  forgot  the 
Thirty,  you  may  set  all  this  to  the  charge  of  the 
defendant's  father.  And  remember  that  his  two 
ancestors,  Alkibiades  on  his  father's,  Megakles  on 
his  mother's  side,  were  both  of  them  dismissed 
the  Country  for  a  term  of  years,  while  the  elder 
among  you  were  concerned  in  passing  Sentence 
of  Death  upon  his  Father.  Regard  him  therefore 
as  your  hereditary  Foe,  and  return  an  adverse 
Verdict,  allowing  no  thought  of  Pardon,  Pity  or 
Indulgence  to  weigh  against  your  Obligations  to 
the  Constitution  or  the  Pledge  of  your  sworn 
Oath. 

'  Wlliat  right  indeed  has  such  a  family  to  Mercy  ? 
Can  they  claim  that  apart  from  political  Miscarriage 
their  Conduct  has  been  one  of  Decency  and  Order 
— as  though  they  had  never  been  guilty  of  all  manner 
of  nameless  Crimes,  never  defaced  the  Hermae, 
never  profaned  the  Mysteries,  never  insulted  Heaven 
or  betrayed  their  Country,  lawless  and  without 
scruple  towards  their  own  Party  as  towards  the 
world  at  large,  stopping  short  of  no  wickedness 
and  innocent  of  none.  There  is  no  Depth  of 
Degradation  to  which  they  have  not  descended. 
For  Vice  is  to  them  a  Thing  to  glory  in,  and  Virtue 
a  Reproach. 

'  For  you  it  remains  to  make  an  example  of  Alki- 
biades, an  Example  to  the  world,  and  an  Example  to 
his  friends,  whose  one  ambition  is  to  defy  authority 
and  imitate  his  model.  As  for  me,  I  have  done  my 
best — yet  I  am  well  aware  that  while  the  rest  of  my 


290 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


hearers  are  admiring  the  detail  in  which  I  have 
catalogued  his  Crimes,  he  will  be  laughing  in  his 
sleeve  because  I  have  not  recited  the  barest  Fraction 
of  the  whole. 

'  Now  let  there  be  read  the  Laws,  the  Juror's 
Oath,  the  Text  of  the  Indictment — and  with  these 
in  mind  do  you  return  an  honest  Verdict.'  He 
then  stood  down. 

The  court  had  followed  with  close  attention  the 
thread  of  his  argument  and  applauded  his  invec- 
tive ;  at  the  vigorous  attacks  on  the  elder  Alkibiades 
there  had  been  lively  signs  of  approbation.  Many 
of  the  jury  stamped  and  waved  their  staves,  while 
the  man  whose  father  fell  at  Syracuse  shouted  abuse 
in  Alkibiades'  direction.  '  We  '11  not  so  much  as 
hear  him  ! '  he  cried  excitedly.  *  Let  us  cast  our 
votes  forthwith.' — '  What  ?  '  said  his  literary  neigh- 
bour, *  before  we  have  arrived  at  the  parsley  and 
the  thyme,'  which  was  his  way  of  signifying  the 
fringe  of  the  matter.  These  demonstrations  were, 
oddly  enough,  allowed  to  pass  unchecked,  and 
the  Crier  now  called  upon  Alkibiades  to  mate  his 
speech. 

Being  little  of  a  speaker,  he  made  a  poor  job  of  it 
and  was  soon  ready  to  give  place  to  a  more  eloquent 
supporter.  This  man  was  a  terrible  ranter  :  and 
his  speech  began  with  a  flood  of  cheap  invective,  in 
which  no  near  relative  of  Archestratides  (whether 
male  or  female)  was  spared  from  the  grossest  imputa- 
tions. Neither  was  he  more  scrupulous  than  his 
opponents  in  adhering  to  the  facts  and  legalities  of 
the  case  :  for  he  soon  wandered  off  upon  an  elabo- 
rate justification  of  Alkibiades  the  elder,  whose 
exile,  according  to  his  theory,  had  been  through 


A  TRIAL  BY  JURY  291 

no  fault  of  his  own,  but  was  the  outcome  of  a 
plot,  hatched  by  an  unscrupulous  gang  of  the 
aristocratic  extremists.  His  recall,  on  the  other 
hand,  by  whatever  dubious  means  it  was  secured, 
had  proved  the  undoubted  salvation  of  the 
State. 

As  for  his  having  been  a  danger  to  his  countrymen, 
had  not  their  arch-enemy,  King  Agis,  desired  the 
Spartans  to  have  him  put  to  death  ?     Finally  he 
pomted   with   triumph   to   the   noble   part   which 
Alkibiades'  ancestors  had  played  in  the  expulsion  of 
the  tyrants.     Of  these  great  family  traditions  he 
declared  the  defendant  to  be  the  not  unworthy 
heir.i     The  jury  (who  were  no  sticklers  for  relevant 
discussion)    had    been    highly    delighted    with   his 
vigorous  rhetoric  :   but  this  last  claim  was  so  ludi- 
crously wide  of  the  mark,  that  it  called  forth  nothing 
but  a  derisive  jeer.     Thus  the  whole  effect  of  the 
speech  was  spoilt. 

Alkibiades  himself  was  highly  indignant  at  this 
blunder— and  told  his  friend  roundly  that  he  had 
made  a  mess  of  it.     But  the  time  was  now  past  for 
such  recriminations.     The  Crier  called  on  the  jury 
to  cast  their  votes,  and  they,  rising  from  their  seats 
and  taking  the  mussel-shells  served  out  to  them, 
advanced  towards  the  two  large  jars  that  stood  in 
the  centre  of  the  court.     As  each  man  went  for- 
ward, the  fatal  shell  held  daintily  like  a  pinch  of 
snuff  between  forefinger  and  thumb,  Archestratides 
watched  their  demeanour  for  some  indication  of 
their  mind.     Whatever  confidence  he  might  feel 
m  the  justice  of  his  cause,  there  remained  behind  it 

»  These  arguments  are  drawn  from  an  extant   speech  written  by 
isocrates  on  behalf  of  tlie  younger  Alkibiades.  ^ 


292         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

the  disconcerting  thought  of  the  thousand-drachmae 
fine.     Should  less  than  one-fifth  cast  their  votes  in 
his  behalf,  he  was  a  ruined  man.     Alkibiades  too 
looked  them  narrowly  between  the  eyes,  indicating 
by  his  glance  that  an  acquittal  might  well  be  worth 
their  while.     Had  it  been  in  his  power,  he  was  not 
the  man  to  stick  at  wholesale  bribery  :  but  such  was 
the  secrecy  observed  in  the  selection  of  the  jury, 
that  bribery  in  advance  was  not  to  be  considered. 
A  token  of  gratitude  dehvered  after  the  event  was 
as  much  as  could  be  accomplished.     The  penalty 
for  this  offence,  however,  was  very  heavy,  and  Alki- 
biades  had,   it   appeared,   few   friends   among   the 
voters.     '  After  all,'  he  said  carelessly,  '  supposing 
they  have  a  mind  in  the  matter,  they  will  choose 
the  wrong  jar  as  like  as  not.     A  voting  pellet,  as  my 
father  used  to  say,  is  not  a  thing  to  trust  one's  own 
mother  with.'     Though  Alkibiades  might  talk  big 
and  conceal  all  traces  of  anxiety,  it  does  not  follow 
he  felt  none.     Condemned,  he  would  be  a  political 
outcast,    forbidden   to   take   part   in   Assembly   or 
Festival,  to  make  a  will,  contract  a  marriage,  or 
even,  by  a  nice  touch  of  irony,  to  appear  in  the 
ranks  as  a  soldier.     In  fine,  he  would  be  a  mere 
inhabitant  of  Athens,   and  no  Athenian;  as  well 
almost  change  places  with  his  slave  !     Neither  could 
there  be  any  appeal  against  such  a  decision.     The 
vote  of  the  people's   court  was  final.     The  only 
loophole  of  escape  was  to  convict  the  witnesses  of 

perjury. 

'  Has  any  juror  failed  to  vote  ? '  bawled  the  Crier, 
and  started  pouring  out  the  contents  of  the  jars. 
He  had  barely  time  to  make  the  count,  before  the 
jurymen  had  declared  what  the  penalties  should 


A  TRIAL  BY  JURY  293 

be  and  were  hurrying  off  from  the  court.  ^  At  the 
door  each  received  a  leaden  tally ;  and  a  crowd  of 
them  was  soon  collecting  round  the  cashier's  oflScc 
in  the  market,  where  they  might  receive  their 
three  silver  obols  in  exchange.  Then  off  they  went, 
the  nasty  old  men,  wheezily  chuckling  over  the  fine 
day's  work  they  had  done,  counting  up  on  their 
crooked  fingers  the  victims  of  their  votes,  and 
boasting  to  their  friends  what  smart  wits  they  had 
and  how  powerful  an  instinct  in  scenting  out  a 
rogue. 

It  remained  for  the  scribe  to  record  the  verdict 
on  a  brazen  slab,  which  was  thereafter  stored  among 
the  archives  of  the  City  Hall ;  and  this  (should  it 
ever  come  to  light)  will  reveal  which  party  won. 

'  The  sentence  in  this  and  similar  cases  would  be  prescribed  by  law. 
In  some  cases,  however,  a  second  discussion  arose  over  fixing  the  amount 
of  the  fine  or  the  nature  of  the  penalty.  Both  parties  in  the  case  offered 
suggestions,  and  the  jury  was  called  on  to  decide. 


.  I 


XXI.  BARBARY 

*  Persicos  odi,  puer,  apparatus.' — Horace. 

Among  the  uplands  of  Phrygia,  where  men  bow  to 
the  rule  of  Artaxerxes  the  king,  Pharnabazos  the 
satrap  had  built  for  himself  a  summer-palace.  He 
had  planted  round  about  it  a  paradise  or  pleasure- 
park,  which  he  laid  out  cunningly  in  garden  terraces, 
and  palm  groves,  shaded  walks  and  canopied  bowers, 
with  here  and  there  a  leaping  fountain  or  a  still 
lagoon  where  fishes  swam  and  wild-fowl  sported. 
Near  the  middle  of  the  park  stood  the  palace  itself 
among  a  clump  of  stately  holm-oaks,  and  seen  from 
afar,  its  painted  cornice  showed  above  the  dusky 
green,  as  vivid  and  various  as  a  pagoda.  The  archi- 
tect, an  Ionian  Greek,  had  suited  himself  to  his 
employer's  taste  and  had  imparted  an  exotic  flavour, 
as  it  were,  to  his  customary  style  :  so  that  the  decora- 
tion of  the  palace  inclined  rather  to  an  Oriental 
exuberance  than  to  the  sterner  delicacy  of  Grecian 
art.  This  outer  brilliance  was  matched  within  by 
an  even  richer,  though  more  subdued,  magnificence. 
The  interior  was  dimly  lighted,  and  the  walls 
heavily  hung  with  tapestries,  upon  which  the  fan- 
tastic shapes  of  birds  and  animals  and  fishes  were 
repeated  in  every  imaginable  conjunction.  The 
floor  was  spread  with  soft  rugs  and  carpets,  glowing 
with  a  thousand  harmonies  of  delicate  colour  such 
as  Eastern  dyers  alone  know  how  to  match.     In  the 


BARBARY 


29s 


centre  stood  a  pair  of  luxurious  couches  heaped 
with  cushions  and  draped  with  silken  coverlets. 
Upon  one  of  these,  during  a  summer's  day  in  the 
reign  of  Artaxerxes  the  king,  a  man  lay  sleeping. 

The  summer  was  at  its  height,  and  notwithstand- 
ing the  exertions  of  two  negro  slaves,  who  plied 
large  long-handled  fans  without  cessation,  the  room 
was  hot  and  airless  and,  to  make  matters  worse, 
heavy  with  the  sickly  fragrance  of  strong  Arabian 
perfumes.  The  man  who  lay  stretched  upon  the 
divan  stirred  uneasily  in  his  sleep  :  presently  he 
threw  back  the  coverlet  and,  raising  himself  amid 
the  pile  of  cushions,  addressed  a  brief  order  to  the 
nearer  slave.  The  fellow  left  the  room,  and  pres- 
ently returned  in  company  with  the  High  Chamber- 
lain of  the  palace.  This  solemn  flunkey  seemed 
burdened  with  an  excessive  sensibility  of  his  elevated 
rank  :  he  moved  with  a  slow  majestic  step,  sweeping 
the  ground  as  he  advanced  with  the  wide  skirts  of 
his  voluminous  attire,  and  at  the  same  time  brandish- 
ing his  staff  of  office  with  the  ludicrous  pomposity 
of  a  drum-major.  When,  however,  he  approached 
the  couch,  this  grand  manner  instantly  fell  from 
him  :  with  obsequious  humility,  he  bowed  his 
turbaned  head  in  a  low  salaam,  and  taking  the  hand 
held  out  to  him,  kissed  it  reverently.  Then,  pre- 
facing his  speech  with  all  the  fulsome  titles  of 
address  which,  according  to  Eastern  etiquette,  are 
the  prerogative  of  superior  station,  he  inquired  the 
wishes  of  his  master's  favoured  guest.  Alkibiades 
(for  it  was  he)  felt  a  strong  desire  to  laugh  at 
the  man's  ridiculous  posturings,  but  checking  the 
impulse,  and  assuming  as  grave  a  demeanour  as 
he  was  able,  he  answered  in  a  tone  of  lofty  con- 


296         THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 

descension  such  as  would  have  been  considered 
outrageous  in  the  society  of  Greeks,  but  which 
alone  commanded  a  due  respect  among  their  Oriental 
neighbours.  It  was  his  wish,  he  said,  to  despatch  a 
letter  to  Pharnabazos  upon  a  matter  of  importance. 
At  the  mention  of  the  name  the  Chamberlain  made 
a  sign  of  the  deepest  reverence,  and,  producing  a 
wax  tablet  from  somewhere  about  his  ample  person, 
he  prepared  to  write  at  Alkibiades'  dictation.  The 
letter  began  with  an  elaborate  exordium  which  de- 
plored in  the  accepted  manner  the  unworthiness 
of  the  sender,  and  extolled  by  way  of  contrast  the 
boundless  virtues  of  the  satrap.  Then  passing  to 
more  serious  business,  it  announced  that  Alkibiades 
intended  (with  due  permission)  to  hunt  next  day  in 
the  vice-regal  game  preserves.  It  concluded  with 
an  undertaking  that  one  half  of  what  fell  to  his 
spear,  bears,  buck,  wild-fowl,  ground-game  and 
what  not,^  should  go  to  replenish  the  stores  of  the 
vice-regal  larder.  When  this  letter  had  been  duly 
signed  and  sealed,  Alkibiades  again  extended  his 
right  hand ;  as  before,  the  Chamberlain  gave  it  a 
deferential  kiss,  inchned  his  head  in  low  obeisance, 
and  passed  noiselessly  over  the  soft  carpets  to  the 
outer  door,  where  he  resumed  his  first  ridiculous 
air  of  self-importance,  and  disappeared. 

Once  more  Alkibiades  beckoned  to  the  slave. 
This  time  the  order  was  to  seek  his  mistress  and 
inform  her  that  the  hour  of  supper  was  fast  ap- 
proaching. After  a  brief  interval,  the  curtains 
were  drawn  aside  from  an  inner  door,  through 
which  entered  two  female  slaves,  and  behind  them 

*  Big-game  hunting,  as  Mr.  Zimmem  remarks,  in  comparison  with 
the  smaller  animals  of  Greece. 


BARBARY 


297 


Timandra,  the  renowned  SiciUan  beauty.  For  a 
Greek,  her  toilette  was  inordinately  pretentious. 
It  is  true  that  Alkibiades  himself  affected  the 
native  style  of  dress,  wearing  the  softest  linen, ^ 
and  even  enveloping  both  head  and  chin  with  the 
unmanly  wrappings  of  a  Persian  *  mitra.'  But  in 
this  dame's  attire  there  was  no  single  item  of  Asiatic 
finery  omitted,  from  the  golden  bracelets  and 
jewelled  rings  upon  her  arms  and  fingers,  to  the 
flaunting  cosmetics  which  adorned  her  brow  and 
cheeks.  Indeed,  her  appearance  would  have  been 
shocking  beyond  measure  in  the  eyes  of  all  respect- 
able Athenian  matrons ;  but  as  if  to  show  still 
further  her  complete  emancipation  from  the  con- 
ventionalities of  Greece,  she  now  took  her  place 
on  the  second  divan  at  Alkibiades'  side.^ 

No  sooner  was  she  seated  than  a  veritable  army 
of  slaves  appeared,  bearing  gold  and  silver  dishes, 
and  supper  began.  First  came  a  variety  of  fruits 
and  lighter  condiments,  dates,  raisins,  dried  figs, 
almonds  and  salted  filberts.  Then  followed  all 
manner  of  baked  meats  in  so  interminable  a  pro- 
cession, that  Alkibiades  from  sheer  satiety  begged 
that  the  flow  might  cease  and  wine  be  brought. 
Timandra  laughed  at  his  early  discomfiture.  *  These 
barbarians  make  poor  warriors,'  she  cried,  *  but  by 
Osiris,  they  are  better  trenchermen  than  we. 
Your  true  Greek,  they  say,  would  always  rise  hungry 

*  It  was  considered  in  Greece  to  be  a  wasteful  and  luxurious  habit  to 
wear  linen,  which  required  (like  white  shirts)  an  almost  daily  washing. 
They  preferred  woollen  cloth  which  only  needed  an  occasional  visit  to 
the  fuller.  The*  mitra'  was  a  kind  of  turban  which  enveloped  the 
head,  chin  and  all. 

*  No  modest  Greek  woman  ever  lay  down  to  a  meal  in  company 
with  men. 


298 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


from  the  board.' — '  Aye,'  replied  Alkibiades,  *  but 
the  fool  would  mix  good  wine  with  water,  and  we, 
Timandra,  have  learnt  to  better  that.'  So  saying 
he  drained  off  a  pint  of  the  rich  syrup,  without  a 
drop  of  that  undesirable  admixture  ^ 

Supper  being  over,  the  slaves  withdrew ;  only  a 
dark-skinned  Hebrew,  the  cup-bearer,  remained, 
filling  and  refilling  the  cups  as  fast  as  they  were 
emptied.  Meanwhile  from  the  outer  night  came 
the  low  sounds  of  soft  seductive  music,  the  mellow 
note  of  flutes  and  the  gentle  tinkle  of  bells  and 
tambourines.  For  long  the  two  sat  there,  Ustening 
as  they  drank,  until  by  and  by  the  minstrels  ceased, 
and  a  tall  white-robed  figure  appeared  in  the  door- 
way. It  was  a  wandering  stranger,  a  professional 
teller  of  tales,  who  had  come  that  morning  to  the 
palace  and  begged  leave  to  appear  before  the  Greeks 
after  they  had  dined.  He  now  seated  himself, 
cross-legged,  before  the  couches,  and  was  about  to 
begin  his  story  when  a  noise  of  shouting  was  heard 
in  the  outer  court.  Timandra  asked  in  some  alarm 
what  this  might  mean.  But  Alkibiades  reassured 
her  ;  it  was  nothing,  he  said ;  the  huntsmen  were 
doubtless  preparing  for  the  morrow's  expedition  ; 
let  the  man  proceed  to  business.  So  the  teller  of 
tales  began  and  the  tale  he  told  was  as  follows  : — 

*Once  upon  a  time,  in  the  heart  of  the  world, 
in  the  place  where  the  four  winds  meet,  there 
dwelt  a  people  whom  the  gods  loved,  and  to  whom 
they  gave  their  choicest  gifts,  not  gold,  nor  abund- 
ance of  corn  or  of  wine  (as  they  give  to  other  men), 

*  When  a  Greek  took  to  drinking  his  wine  neat,  in  imitation  of  foreign 
habits,  he  was  thought  to  be  past  praying  for  (cp.  Thukydides'  story  of 
Pausanias  the  Spartan). 


BARBARY 


299 


but  knowledge  and  the  secret  of  all  arts  ;  in  these 
the  people  wrought,  honouring  toil,  and  despising 
idleness  or  ease.  Therefore,  though  their  land 
was  narrow,  the  people  grew  and  prospered  :  their 
old  men  were  strong  with  the  strength  of  youths  : 
their  young  men  were  wise  with  the  wisdom  of  the 
old  :  and  in  that  country,  so  men  said,  it  seemed 
always  to  be  Morning. 

*  Now  there  was  one  among  them  in  whose  heart 
the  gods  had  set  insatiable  desire.  And  when  he 
had  come  to  manhood,  he  must  needs  know  the 
source  of  all  happiness  :  " for,"  said  he,  "in  all  this 
land,  none  shall  be  happier  than  I."  So  he  went  his 
way  into  the  market  and  sought  out  a  merchant 
who  v/as  accounted  the  richest  of  all,  who  bought 
and  sold  in  that  place,  and  of  him  he  inquired, 
saying,  "  Wherein  doth  happiness  consist  ?  "  and  the 
rich  man  answered  him,  "  In  gaining  wealth  enough 
and  no  more."  Then  he  left  the  rich  man  and 
came  to  the  chief  ruler  of  the  country,  to  whose 
counsel  all  men  hearkened ;  and  of  him  he  inquired 
as  before,  "  Wherein  doth  happiness  consist  ?  "  and 
the  man  answered  him,  "  In  gaining  power  enough 
and  no  more."  Lastly  he  came  to  a  philosopher, 
who  was  accounted  the  wisest  man  in  all  the  world, 
and  of  him  he  asked  the  same  question,  and  the  wise 
man  answered,  "  In  gaining  wisdom  enough  and  no 
more."  Then  the  young  man  said  in  his  heart, 
"  This  is  but  the  prating  of  fools  ;  for  as  the  whole 
is  greater  than  the  half,  so  surely  is  more  better  than 
enough.  When  I  shall  have  surpassed  all  other  men 
in  riches,  in  power,  and  in  wisdom,  on  that  day 
shall  I  in  very  deed  be  happy."  But  the  people, 
when  they  were  aware  of  it,  declared  that  he  had 


300 


THE  DAYS  OF  ALKIBIADES 


passed  the  boundary  of  desire,  and  they  drove  him 
from  the  land. 

*  So  he  journeyed  abroad  into  the  world. 

*  Now  there  was,  beyond  the  seas,  another  land 
where  was  corn  in  abundance  and  much  gold. 
And  the  people  of  that  land  loved  ease  and  idle 
luxury.  Therefore  though  their  land  was  broad  as 
ocean,  yet  were  their  hearts  narrow  as  the  kernel 
hidden  in  the  nut  :  the  strength  of  their  young 
men  was  as  the  feebleness  of  the  old,  and  the  wisdom 
of  their  old  men  was  as  the  folly  of  babes,  and  in  that 
country  it  seemed  always  Afternoon. 

'  So  he  came  and  sojourned  in  this  land,  saying 
within  himself  :  "  This  people  are  wise  for  they 
live  as  gods,  knowing  neither  want  nor  grievous  toil. 
Here  will  I  take  my  fill  of  ease  and  taste  the  pleasures 
of  life,  for  it  may  be  that  therein  lies  happiness " ; 
and  when  he  had  tasted  of  ease  and  pleasures,  lo, 
they  were  but  emptiness  mocking  his  desire. 

'  Then  was  he  fain  to  return  and  come  again  to  his 
own  people  and  the  bright  land  of  Morning.  But 
his  enemies,  when  they  heard  it,  were  afraid  and  sent 
messenger  desiring  that  he  might  be  slain.' 

At  these  words  Timandra  cried  out,  *  O  Alki- 
biades,  it  is  thou  !  The  omen  is  against  thee.' 
'  What  does  Hippokleides  care  ?  '  ^    he  answered ; 

^  The  origin  of  this  saying  is  given  by  Herodotos  asi  follows:  A 
certain  Kleisthenes,  tyrant  of  Megara,  had  a  beautiful  daughter,  Agarista, 
and  he  invited  the  nobles  of  Greece  to  come  and  compete  for  her  hand. 
The  others  having  exhibited  their  proficiency  in  music  and  song,  one, 
Hippokleides,  called  for  a  table  and,  bidding  the  piper  strike  up,  began 
to  dance  thereon.  After  giving  examples  of  the  more  modest  and  con- 
ventional steps,  he  suddenly  stood  upon  his  head  and  *  gesticulated ' 
with  his  legs  in  the  air.  Kleisthenes,  profoundly  shocked  at  this 
extravagance,  cried  out,  *  O  son  of  Tisandor,  thou  hast  danced  thy  wife 
away.' — *  What  does  Hippokleides  care? '  was  the  retort,  and  the  words 
became  a  proverb. 


BARBARY 


301 


and  he  bade  the  man  continue  the  tale.  But 
scarcely  had  he  spoken  when  great  flames  lit  up  the 
doorway  and  the  room  was  filled  with  smoke.  Then 
he  rose  from  his  couch  and  gathered  in  his  arms  the 
pillows  and  coverlet  and  threw  them  upon  the  fire, 
and  going  out  he  stood  at  the  threshold.  But  he 
knew  already  that  his  life  was  forfeited,  and,  as  he 
stood  there,  he  fell  pierced  with  arrows.  So  he 
died. 

^  It  is  well,'  said  the  wandering  prophet.  '  Morning 
bringeth  toil  to  man,  and  the  Afternoon  satiety  : 
but  of  the  Night  no  man  can  say  whether  it  be 
good  or  bad.' 


Printed  by  T.  and  A.  Constable,  Printers  to  His  Majesty 
at  the  Edinburgh  University  Press 


884.03 
R56 


COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARIES 


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0663398 


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